


Star Wars: Legacy of the Chosen One

by jp2187



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Ben Solo backstory, Episode IX, F/M, Kylo believes he is beyond redemption, Lords of the Sith Podcast, Mustafar, OT/PT/ST parallels, Psychology of Anakin, Psychology of Kylo Ren, Psychology of Rey, Reads like a Star Wars novelization, Rey disagrees, Reylo as reverse Anidala (but no reincarnation), Six Degrees of Kylo Ren, Star Wars Connection, Sticking with subtext (of which there is a lot), Wayward Jedi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-22
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2019-07-15 09:37:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 86,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16060415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jp2187/pseuds/jp2187
Summary: If your wish for IX includes more from Kylo’s perspective, meeting the Knights of Ren, Leia surviving, Ben Solo’s backstory, more Kylo vs. Hux,  Mustafar, Anakin playing a role in Ben’s redemption, and a very Reylo kiss of life, wedding, baby, and happily ever after (including for Anakin), then come aboard and enjoy the ride.Special thanks to Star Wars Connection, Lords of the Sith Podcast, 6°KR, and Wayward Jedi for their insights and ideas.  This story is based heavily on their awesome videos.--------The more Hux thought about Ren’s account of Snoke’s death and the scene of mass carnage he had come upon the less sense it made.He knew the girl Ren was fingering for Snoke’s death had beaten Ren on Starkiller Base as Hux himself had had to rescue him.  Ren’s story, however, that all by herself the girl had again beaten him, the entire Praetorian Guard, murdered Supreme Leader Snoke, and then left Ren alive stretched the bounds of credulity in the extreme.  There unfortunately were no security cameras in Snoke’s throne room.  There were, however, ones in the throne room’s private turbolift.Hux was interested in seeing the security footage from that turbolift . . . very interested indeed.





	1. First Reordering

**Author's Note:**

> This story is dedicated to everyone at Star Wars Connection, especially the Lords of the Sith Ladies, Lee, Denise, and Mary, in gratitude for all your work over so many years to make the Reylo fandom a fun and welcoming community.
> 
>  
> 
> Star Wars Connection:  
> https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCLlbPGNQ9_GMfOMxAhUm9Hg
> 
> Lords of the Sith Podcast:  
> https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCYgBzRzGk4cjuzih1WGzIuQ/featured
> 
> Six Degrees of Kylo Ren Podcast:  
> https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCyD_MTM5QvIMgQ6s0msLr2g
> 
> Wayward Jedi:  
> https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC-bpvFfRhwCV2amdQ5vZqVw
> 
>  
> 
> Story based on Episodes I-VIII (including deleted scenes), some episodes of the Clone Wars, and elements of the TFA & TLJ novelizations, Bloodlines novel, Rogue One, and Solo.
> 
> \----------------------
> 
>  
> 
> STAR WARS: LEGACY OF THE CHOSEN ONE
> 
> The First Order and Resistance have both suffered serious losses. With much of the First Order fleet destroyed, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren is forced to regroup and delay his plans for galactic domination. With the remnant of the Resistance aboard the Millennium Falcon, General Leia Organa seeks a new base from which to rally her allies and form a New Rebel Alliance to stop her son.
> 
> It is a race to reload . . .

 

 

 

**Chapter 1: First Reordering**

 

 

From the bridge of the Star Destroyer _Silencer_ , General Armitage Hux gazed out the viewport, his face wearing the deep scowl that had become a permanent fixture over the last few months.

 

The disastrous loss of Starkiller Base had been followed closely by the even greater fiasco of the death of Supreme Leader Snoke, and the destruction of the _Supremacy_ and its accompanying fleet. The First Order, which had been poised to roll through the galaxy and take control of all the major star systems, had been subsequently forced to halt its advance and regroup.

 

Unlike most of the escorting Star Destroyers, the _Supremacy_ was thankfully not beyond repair. As the First Order’s mobile capital, weapons manufacturing plant, and troop training facility, rebuilding the Mega Star Destroyer had not been optional. However, the process of restoring the huge ship to full functioning, which was begun immediately after returning from Crait, had been a time consuming mess.

 

 

The thought of the brief battle on Crait only deepened Hux’s scowl.

 

 

Ren, who for some reason had been a distracted, illogical, emotional mess, had as usual of late let his personal feelings get in the way of their objective. Although Hux had privately enjoyed Ren’s recent crash and burn down to the realm of fallible mortals, he did not enjoy it when Ren losing meant he Hux and the rest of the First Order had to share in Ren’s humiliating defeat.

 

On Crait, Ren had insisted on having a show down with his old Jedi Master, who, Hux learnt when he came to from Ren smashing him into a wall for trying to keep in on task, had _not actually even been there_. The whole thing had allowed the remnant of the Resistance to escape.

 

Hux was disgusted.

 

Searching the abandoned base, Hux had come across Ren kneeling, head bowed, with his back turned. Hux would have made another attempt at a See change then and there if he had thought it would work. He knew better than that, however, and chose instead to bide his time.

 

The Resistance having officially slipped through his fingers, Ren seemed to finally pull himself together from his tactical meltdown. He had word sent to the entire First Order network of spies to locate the _Millennium Falcon_ , prioritizing all known Resistance allies, and including any place with known ties to the old Rebel Alliance. Ren even made sure the search for the _Falcon_ was extended to Kashyyk, knowing there was a Wookie on board.

 

It was a reasonable plan. The distinctive Corillian YT model freighter was not, after all, that hard to identify. But months of searching had not yielded a single sighting or the slightest hint of where the Resistance had holed up.

 

 

Mercifully, Ren had not neglected everything else that needed to be done while he waited.

 

As soon as they returned from Crait, he ordered the search and rescue of any surviving crewers of the destroyed fleet, which turned out to be a larger number than expected given the scale of the devastation. The survivors had been moved to the _Supremacy_ , with large sections of its life support systems still intact, and were tasked with beginning repairs.

 

The obnoxiously tedious operation had been as organized as it possibly could be under the atrocious circumstances.

 

In searching for something concerning Ren with which to find fault, the only thing Hux had settled on objecting to was Ren wasting time repairing his mask, which he was again wearing, and retrieving his chard, deformed, and down right creepy Vader relic.

 

The unfortunately limited available reinforcements had been called for, and arrived to help guard the _Supremacy_. A small detachment had also taken Ren and Hux to the First Order facilities in the Unknown Region so they could figure out how best to reload the First Order war machine.

 

Once in the Unknown Regions the situation did not look as bleak. The First Order’s secondary shipyard was producing on schedule, and had just completed a new Resurgent-class Star Destroyer. With Starkiller Base completed, albeit just briefly before being destroyed, the technicians had turned their attention to resurrecting more of the First Order’s collection of Imperial ships and weapons. The late Captain Phasma’s most recent group of trained stormtroopers was also ready to be commissioned.

 

With the Republic Fleet gone and the Resistance in shambles, even their diminished force would be enough to take over the core and mid-rim systems once the _Supremacy_ was again ready to fly.

 

Hux, who was never happy without a weapon of mass destruction at his disposal, had insisted on a new one. Knowing Hux’s love for Death Star tech and the First Order having somehow procured one of the Empire’s stashes of stolen kyber crystals, Hux was prevailed upon to accept a miniaturized Death Star superweapon.

 

It was not as powerful or magnificent as the now lost Starkiller Base, but it could be installed onto the _Supremacy_ in the time it took to complete overall repairs, and would still disintegrate enemy capital ships and punch through planetary shields. With some convincing, Hux came to see it would do nicely in terrorizing any population that considered resisting the rule of the First Order.

 

 

Ren’s Force sensitive band of thugs, who had been off doing who knows what since before Starkiller was destroyed, had finally rejoined him. Hux, who individually hated them only slightly less than he did Ren and hated them most as a group, was relieved when Ren immediately sent them out on another errand.

 

Ren had sent Hux back to oversee repairs to the _Supremacy_ and the construction of his Death Star weapon of mass destruction. The self-appointed new Supreme Leader was pursuing some other goal about which, in spite of Hux’s best efforts, the General still did not have the slightest information.

 

Busy, however, with their own apparently non-conflicting pursuits, the two of them were at a very temporary truce.

 

Although even then Ren still managed to get under Hux’s skin. With both of them expecting the Resistance and whatever band of Rebels they managed to cobble together to eventually come out of hiding to try to attack the _Supremacy_ , Ren had still taken all the Resurgent-class Star Destroyers for his own purposes leaving Hux with the older, smaller Imperial-class Star Destroyers.

 

It was not that the force left at Hux’s disposal was inadequate to protect the _Supremacy_ . . . but it was the principal to which he objected.

 

 

Even more infuriatingly, Ren had also left strict orders, along with agents to enforce them, that the _Supremacy’s_ main computer be left offline until the ship was once again fully operational to disguise from Rebel spies the status of repairs.

 

Although perfectly reasonable and likely to work, Hux suspected this move was also directed at him. While Ren had his unnatural powers, Hux’s superpowers came from technology—specifically _Supremacy’s_ supercomputer and its processing speed.

 

 

And Hux had other reasons for wanting to get back into his computer.

 

Since unlike Hux, Ren usually did not bother lying, when Hux had come upon his rival in Snoke’s throne room he had automatically believed what Ren said when he woke up a few seconds too soon. The more Hux thought about Ren’s account of Snoke’s death and the scene of mass carnage he had come upon, however, the less sense it made.

 

He knew the girl Ren was fingering for Snoke’s death had beaten Ren on Starkiller Base as Hux himself had had to rescue him. Ren’s story, however, that all by herself the girl had again beaten him, the entire Pretorian Guard, murdered Supreme Leader Snoke, and then left Ren alive stretched the bounds of credulity in the extreme. There unfortunately were no security cameras in Snoke’s throne room. There were, however, ones in the throne room’s private turbolift.

 

Hux was interested in seeing the security footage from that turbolift . . . very interested indeed.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! (First two chapters are mainly to set the stage).
> 
> \------------------------
> 
> Acknowledgment of works of commentary that contributed ideas significantly included in this chapter:
> 
> LOTS Podcast: Episode IX Leaked Concept Art Discussion  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=__RkvMtXcFI&t=1s
> 
> LOTS Podcast: Mended Mask for Kylo, Rey and Kylo battle, and more spoilers for Episode IX  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wsWh41Xt2Zs
> 
> SWC: Renperor vs. Benperor:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EGqLQRlPZ2M
> 
>  
> 
> Artwork: The Last Jedi production photo.  
> http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Supremacy?file=Supremacy.png


	2. Loss and Rebirth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have never seen them before or if it has been a while, I recommend taking a few minutes to watch the probably shouldn’t have been deleted scenes from Attack of the Clones of Anakin and Padmé visiting her family on Naboo (starting at 4:08 through 13:32): 
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LDPmS7a1UYo

 

 

**Chapter 2: Loss and Rebirth**

 

 

As Rey walked along the now familiar cobblestone streets, the thought crossed her mind for the umpteenth time that if she flew to every planet in the galaxy she would be hard pressed to find one more unlike Jakku than this one.

 

It was just as green as the lush wilderness of Takodana, but with a refined peaceful elegance.

 

Elegant, sophisticated, cultured, lavish—those were the words that best described the home world and the people themselves who were harboring the remnant of the Resistance. The beautiful buildings, streets, the waterfall—the entire landscape were something out of a painting, which was something else they had here that Rey had never seen before.

 

 

Once they were far enough away from the First Order to be out of immediate danger, and Chewbacca had banned Threepio and his incessant predictions of doom from his presence, Leia had come into the cockpit of the _Falcon_ and announced to Rey, Chewie, Poe, Kaydel Connix, and Artoo the destination she had chosen.

 

“Naboo?” Poe as usual was the first to voice everyone’s unspoken confusion. “Why Naboo?”

 

“Because it has no ties to the Resistance, was never part of the Rebel Alliance, and my-” Leia corrected herself, “the First Order will not think to look for us there.”

 

It was a testament to Poe’s growth as a leader over the last few days, along with his unconditional trust in Leia, that he did not insist on understanding on the spot why in the galaxy they were going there if Naboo had no ties to the Resistance or the Rebel Alliance.

 

For some reason Artoo had the coordinates to Naboo on hand so readily that a search of the _Falcon’s_ navigational database had not been necessary, and Rey and Chewie had unquestioningly plotted out their course.

 

The Naboo space control had let Rey land the _Falcon_ without obstruction. Escorted by Poe, Rey, and Threepio, Leia had walked down the gangplank and announced she was General Leia Organa, Leader of the Resistance, former senator of the New Republic, Princess of Alderaan . . . and natural daughter of Padmé Amidala Naberrie.

 

That last title surprised both the Naboo and Poe, who knew Leia quite well, and got them an audience with the reigning democratically elected Queen. In her official regalia, which included an elaborate dress, hairstyle, and face paint, the Queen of the Naboo graciously welcomed the daughter of her predecessor, and attentively heard Leia’s plea for asylum.

 

 

Born into an influential family of Naboo, Sheev Palaptine, secretly the Sith Lord Darth Sidious, had used his position as Naboo’s representative in the Old Republic Senate to launch his power play and rise to Galactic Emperor. His familiarity with his homeworld had rendered the planet useless as an ally or hideout for the original Rebel Alliance. Having served its purpose in his nefarious plan, the Emperor had been content to leave the tiny system alone during the height of the Empire.

 

Darth Vader too had left the inhabitants unmolested, although the Sith Lord had visited the Naboo once early in the rise of the planet’s most infamous son to everyone’s utter terror. But Vader’s visit had been brief, and consisted in an unaccompanied visit to the hastily evacuated region of the Naboo peoples’ tombs reserved for past queens.

 

Naboo had, therefore, been spared the devastation and hardship experienced by so many systems at the hands of the Imperials.

 

It remained much as it had been at the time of the Old Republic, the populace living in harmony with the Gungans—a tiny bedrock of albeit strictly local democracy amidst the tidal wave of totalitarianism that had swept across the galaxy.

 

 

It was Naboo’s former uselessness as an ally to the old Rebel Alliance that rendered it both unknown to the First Order and consequently of vital significance to Leia.

 

The Queen spoke to Leia of the deep seeded guilt of not only the Naboo’s leadership but also much of the populace for their role as pawn in Palpatine’s rise, and their frustration in their inability to help defeat him in a meaningful way. Grateful to finally be able to be of real service to the cause of justice and peace in the galaxy, the Queen and the governing counsel agreed to shelter the Resistance, and allow them to use Naboo as a base of operations as they worked to build a New Rebel Alliance to stand against the First Order.

 

The _Falcon’s_ passengers were escorted to the wing of the palace the Queen was placing at their disposal, with the still unconscious Rose, accompanied by Finn, being transferred directly to the Naboo’s medical facility. The _Falcon_ and its distinctive ship’s signature was moved to a deeper level of the spaceport.

 

Once everyone was settled in the palace Rey headed back to the _Falcon_ where Chewie had remained. As on Ahch-To, he declared his intention to remain on board, and continue to work on the years worth of maintenance and repairs that the _Falcon_ had accumulated while rotting on Jakku in Unkar Plutt’s negligent care.

 

Seeing that the Naboo spaceport crew was giving Chewie whatever parts and assistance he needed, Rey headed back to the palace.

 

Rey was a bit surprised to look back and find Artoo rolling after her.

 

When he had not initially come with them Rey assumed he had decided to stay and help Chewie with the _Falcon_. She was even more surprised when he turned off the road back towards the palace, and with a swivel of his domed head seemed to be waiting for her to follow him.

 

Rey sighed and headed off after the little droid in silence—having decided to follow him she felt no inclination to berate and second guess him the whole way as Threepio was want to do.

 

Artoo seemed to have a specific destination in mind, although Rey had no idea how that could be. He led them down a series of streets with stone archways until Rey was thoroughly lost. They came to a modest but elegant house—there were not any other kind here from what Rey could see—and stopped. Artoo swiveled his head toward Rey expectantly.

 

Rey had no idea what the droid wanted her to do and was just about ask him, when several of the house’s occupants came out of a door and onto the steep stone stairs.

 

One of them was a woman who appeared to be a few years older than Leia. When she saw Artoo she exclaimed, “Oh I remember you!” The woman came down the stairs and introduced herself as Ryoo. “Forgive me, this droid just reminds me of one who came here with my Aunt Padmé when I was a child.”

 

Hearing the name _Padmé_ along with Artoo’s confirming beeps, Rey relayed that Artoo was in fact the same droid the older woman remembered, and told Ryoo about Leia. Whatever their prior plans had been they were quickly abandoned as Ryoo became dead set on immediately meeting her cousin.

 

With Artoo in the lead, Rey set out back towards the palace, Ryoo and her entire clan in tow, to tell Leia the little droid had found her family.

 

 

For Leia, who had grown up knowing she was an adopted orphan, it was strange and wonderful to find family with whom she shared the same bloodline. She had lost her entire adopted family when Alderaan was destroyed, and she, Luke, and Han had all been orphans. The concept of extended family was a foreign but welcome reality after so many recent losses.

 

Although several generations of girls had grown and married into different families, the old family home currently occupied by Leia’s cousin Ryoo and her family was still referred to as the Naberrie House, and Leia soon became a very frequent visitor.

 

That her mother’s sister Sola, a quite elderly but still very much alive woman, could tell her about her mother Padmé was a blessing of which Leia could not have conceived a hope. In hearing of Leia’s life, which had carried on Padmé’s fight against the rising tide that turned into the Empire, Aunt Sola told Leia her mother would have been very proud of her.  Her aunt’s words soothed an ache and satisfied a need in her heart that Leia had not been aware was even there.

 

 

Leia’s happiness and Resistance’s peaceful respite from the coming war, however, soon came to an abrupt end when Leia’s health again began to fail. In discussing the timing of events, Leia and Rey agreed that Leia’s previous miraculous recovery appeared to coincide with Luke’s decision to stop cutting himself off from the Force.

 

With Luke having passed on, the natural consequences of Leia being on the bridge of the _Raddus_ when the First Order blew it up and her time in the vacuum of space appeared to be returning as well. Leia eventually fell back into a coma, which was a devastating blow to the remnant of the Resistance.

 

Rey recalled Leia’s words to her on the _Falcon_ when she had wondered aloud how they were to rebuild the Rebellion from such meager resources.

 

“We have everything that we need,” Leia told her, comfortingly squeezing Rey’s hand that held one half the broken Skywalker legacy lightsaber.

 

Rey remembered the words with renewed clarity . . . particularly when they no longer appeared to be true.

 

 

The remnant of the Resistance was about to find out, however, that although their situation seemed bleak it was not the end.

 

The Rebellion symbol of a phoenix now served the Resistance, and the symbol was a prophetic one.

 

Whereas Luke’s dying act of returning to be a legend had set off a spark of new hope, the news of Leia’s illness and presumed imminent death sparked new resolve and action among her allies. Even as the leader and embodiment of the Resistance lay dying, out of the ashes of the Resistance the New Rebel Alliance was born.

 

Poe suddenly found himself flying all over the galaxy meeting with allies and organizing their collective forces to face the coming storm of the regrouping First Order. More often than not he took Finn along with him.

 

 

Finn was different than the Finn Rey remembered.

 

When Rey had first met him on Jakku all he had wanted to do was get as far away from the First Order as quickly as possible. The last time she had expected to ever see him was on Takodana. He was saying goodbye to her before fleeing to the Outer Rim . . . right after they had had a very similar argument to the one Rey would later have with someone else.

 

Both she and Finn had tried to convince the other to join their side, Rey asking Finn to stay and fight for the Resistance, and Finn inviting her to run away with him. At an impasse they had parted ways—forever she thought—after his final words to her, “Take care of yourself . . . please.”

 

It had been a complete shock on Starkiller Base to find Finn had come back for her and her alone—something her parents had never done—an act which had solidified their bond as family.

 

Rey had come to from where Kylo Ren had knocked her out again, just in time to see him slice Finn’s back open with his red lightsaber, for all she knew at the time killing her friend. This was one of the many things Rey had swept to one side of her mind in her hasty overconfidence to save Ben Solo.

 

The last time Rey had seen Finn he was thankfully still alive and lying unconscious in the Resistance medical bay, before she headed off to find Luke. She had kissed his forehead and said as much to herself as to him, “We’ll see each other again. I can feel it.”

 

Rey was thankful her words had come true, but they had both changed a lot—she probably more than Finn realized.

 

If Maz looked into Finn’s eyes again, Rey had a feeling she would no longer see the eyes of a man who wanted to run, but eyes full of courage and loyalty to the Resistance. Finn was now flying around with Poe as the New Rebel Alliance poster boy delivering a rally cry to stand up and fight the First Order.

 

Even before Rose finally woke up and recovered from the injuries she had sustained while saving Finn on Crait, Rey was already sure the difference in Finn was due in large part to Rose’s influence. When Rey finally met the other woman it only validated her belief that Finn had joined the Resistance because of Rose and the quest they had embarked on together.

 

 

Rey on the other hand did not seem capable of inspiring anyone to join the Resistance.

 

She had not told anyone about her interactions with now Supreme Leader Kylo Ren or her time aboard the _Supremacy_. Somehow, however, Leia seemed to know hers was not the only heart that loved her son.

 

The last time Rey saw Leia conscious the older woman had given Rey her beautiful ring. It was from Alderaan, and with its twin blue stones seemed to remind Leia of her twin brother no matter how far away he might be.

 

“I know it’s not practical for a Jedi, but I want you to have it,” Leia said as she closed the ring in Rey’s hand. “Maybe you can turn it into a pendant.”

 

Leia had kept her tone light, but Rey knew that in gifting her ring Leia had just added to Rey’s growing collection of Skywalker and Solo family heirlooms. One of the others was parked in the lower level of the spaceport under the care of a Wookie who seemed to have adopted her as well, and the other one was in her room and at the time was still broken in two.

 

Rose, who was quite skilled at working with metal, had turned Leia’s ring into a pendant for Rey, and it now hung around her neck on a cord in similar style to the one Rose herself wore.

 

When she first woke up and Finn had introduced them, Rose has been fairly wary of Rey. Rey had a feeling Finn had talked about her a great deal to Rose, who had subsequently gotten the wrong idea about them. Rey had gone out of her way to set Rose’s mind as ease as far as she and Finn were concerned, and the two of them had become fast friends.

 

 

And today Rey found herself accompanied on the familiar route by Finn, Rose, Artoo, Threepio, and BB-8 for their daily visit to the unconscious Leia, who was being care for at the Naberrie House.

 

They reached the entrance, and Rey again marveled at BB-8 deploying his grappling cords and making his way up the stairs. After greeting the family they all made their way to Leia’s room.

 

There they found Poe where he could often be found when he was on planet . . . in vigil beside Leia’s bed, head in in his hand, with Connix standing silently beside him with one comforting hand on his shoulder.

 

Poe looked up expectantly as Rey entered the room, the question on his mind having been asked so many times it no longer needed to be spoken. “She’s still here,” Rey confirmed feeling Leia’s presence in the Force.

 

Leia was hanging on.

 

Rey had the sense the older woman was waiting for something . . . or more likely, Rey knew, someone.

 

 

“Poe, we need to come up with a plan,” Finn said, drawing Poe, who as Leia’s successor was now the leader of the New Rebel Alliance, back to the larger task at hand.

 

“I know,” Poe said, sounding deeply weary. “Based on the report from Snap’s last reconnaissance mission, if we don’t take a run at hitting the _Supremacy_ within the next two weeks we will have likely missed our window. But with their main computer still down it’s hard to tell. Personally, I think we don’t even have that much time.”

 

“Do we have enough ships to move up the attack?” Finn asked.

 

“With the three additional Mon Calamari cruisers we were just promised, yes,” Poe said. “And even if it wasn’t I think we’re out of time. We’re all meeting at the rendezvous point in four days, and supposed to regroup and plan for a few more. I’m not making it official until we’re all together to make sure as best we can that the First Order doesn’t get wind of it through their spy network—but as soon as we’re together I’m moving up the attack.”

 

 

The conversation turned to the First Order itself and Rey wandered out of the room, wishing to avoid any mention of “Kylo Ren” and her feelings of sadness that always accompanied hearing his name.

 

She passed a large sitting room and someone called out to her. Turning Rey saw it was Leia’s Aunt Sola, and at the old woman’s invitation Rey joined her on the beautifully embroidered couch. The room was one of Rey’s favorites in the house, although she had only been in it a few times. With photos adorning the walls, the presence of the family that had lived here for so many generations was palpable and rich.

 

“How did you find Leia today?” Sola asked.

 

“About the same, still fighting,” Rey answered.

 

“I think all the visitors have helped. We try to spend as much time with her as possible when someone else isn’t here. We don’t like for her to be alone,” Sola said.

 

“She is blessed to be part of such a wonderful family,” Rey tried to keep the note of sadness out of her voice.

 

For a few moments they sat without speaking in comfortable companionship.

 

“My dear, this may seem an odd question,” Sola finally broke the silence, “but would you happen to be a Jedi?”

 

Rey was surprise and a bit taken aback. “Yes, actually. Well sort of. Why do you ask?”

 

“The way you carry yourself just reminds me of . . . someone who was here a long time ago,” Sola trailed off, her mind’s eye appearing to no longer be in the present.

 

“Leia’s father?” Rey asked.

 

“Yes.” Old woman seemed surprised, but also pleased to be free of the burden of a long held and painful secret.

“Padmé’s Jedi, as I used to think of him. He had an iron will that matched hers,” Sola smiled wryly. “We all liked him. Even my father, who was notoriously hard to please.” She sighed. “We didn’t really understand what it meant for her to become involved with a Jedi. We just saw that he loved her, and had for a long time.”

 

Her bright face became worn as she continued. “A few years later she came back and swore me to secrecy that they had gotten married, and she was pregnant. But they had to keep it all a secret or he would be expelled from the Jedi Order.” Sola continued, “I should have been shocked, but with as sister like Padmé I’d already been used to her doing whatever she wanted.”

 

“But then she died in childbirth, and I had to tell my parents what I knew.” From the expression on her face Rey could see the decades had not dulled the pain of that memory for the older woman. “And Anakin going mad and everything that happened afterwards in many ways was even worse. In the end it was just easier to think of him as having died too,” Sola said, a haunted look coming into her eyes.

 

“My parents asked the man who brought us Padmé’s body what had become of the child. He told us the child had died—and even if it had lived would have to be kept hidden from its father. At her funeral they even made Padmé still appear pregnant. We never knew whether or not the baby lived—now I know she had twins of all things—but back then all we knew was either way Padmé’s child was dead to us. The whole thing literally killed my mother.”

 

The usually bright spirited woman now appeared to feel the full weight of her advanced years.

 

“In the end Anakin was redeemed,” Rey told the older woman. “He left the Emperor's service and the dark side to save his son. He returned to the Light before he died on Endor.”

 

“I heard tell of that a few years back,” Sola said. “I wanted to believe it, but it seemed more than I could hope for that it was true.”

 

“I know your nephew Luke,” Rey said with conviction, “It’s true.”

 

“I am glad to know that,” Sola said, some of the burden of the long carried family secret appearing to lift off her. “It’s a comfort to know even someone who had fallen so far wasn’t really gone.”

 

“Yes,” Rey said, her heart briefly tightening in her chest. “It is.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With Reylo being the Anidala redo, I thought it was important to return to the “beginning” and go back to Naboo. It is where Padmé (and Palpatine) are from, it was an important place for Anakin & Padmé’s relationship (where they got married), is the home of Padmé’s family, and is where Padmé is buried.
> 
> I also love the fact that at Maz's castle in TFA, Rey failed to convince Finn to stay and join the Resistance in what ends up being essentially the SAME conversation she later has with Kylo, even with the whole argument of two people trying to convince the other to go their way ending with “please." 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading.  
> Next chapter is all Kylo.
> 
> \--------------
> 
> Acknowledgment of works of commentary that contributed ideas significantly included in this chapter:
> 
> LOTS Podcast: Reylo vs. Anidala - Couple Contrasts in Star Wars  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xdnZHfFf2-A&t=3s
> 
> LOTS Podcast: Rey and Reylo: Psychology of the Characterization  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rP0NTri4fB8&t=3480s
> 
> Wayward Jedi: Rey and Ben - The Resurrected Heroes (Part 1 & 2) The One Big Story of Star Wars  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PkoY5MJ2pxY&t=5s  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5xqnQtl13CQ
> 
> Wayward Jedi: Love is the Balance - A Rey and Kylo Ren Story  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qEYCYL_9jl8&t=165s
> 
>  
> 
> Artwork: Art of the Phantom Menace, page 98.


	3. Supreme Leader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo . . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus points to anyone who can find all the times something Lee said made it verbatim into this chapter (full disclosure: I lost count).

 

 

 

**Chapter 3: Supreme Leader**

 

 

In his current quarters aboard the new Resurgent-class Star Destroyer _Vindicator_ , Supreme Leader Kylo Ren rose from the miserable restlessness that constituted sleep for him these days, and began preparing for another day. He washed his face with the coldest water available, and as he dried it he took a longer look than usual at his reflection in the mirror.

 

Dark circles had formed under his eyes and his eyes themselves had a haggard look after so many nights without real rest. What caught his attention next—what always caught his attention—was his scar. It ran across his chest, along his neck, slashed up his check, narrowly missed his eye, and stopped midway up his forehead. It was hard to remember it had not been there a few months ago. It was so indelible a mark that it often seemed it had always been there—or more accurately the deep mark the author of that gash had made on his life felt like it had been there forever. The reason he usually avoided lingering on his reflection was all his scar made him think about was her.

 

_Rey._

 

In hindsight his promise to Snoke that he would not be seduced by the Light could not have been more ironically timed or a stronger foreshadowing of events that would occur in short order. From the first moment he heard about Rey she began to draw his attention away from his single-minded purpose like a moth to a flame, and he  also sensed she had something to do with the awakening in the Force he had recently felt.

 

Kylo had come upon her in the lush green forest of Takodana, and had immediately been captivate by her. She had been shooting at him at the time—she was always shooting at him back then. He had been forced to put her into a Force bind to end her barrage, and was then able to get his first good look at her. She was fairly ordinary at first pass, and her dress was even less impressive. Being from Jakku that meant she was likely a scavenger or something equally menial. But she practically glowed in the Force, and there was an alluring brightness in her eyes. There was also something else about her—he could not quit put his finger on it—that was far from ordinary.

 

In the end Kylo realized with some surprise he found her quite lovely.

 

He had of course still had to go through the motions of doing his job—the blasted droid and the long searched for map were after all the reason he was on Takodana. With each passing minute he was around her, however, that had grown more steadily into a pretense. What Kylo should have done—would have done with anyone else—was extract the map on the spot by whatever means necessary, and head off to complete Snoke’s insistent command and his own long burning desire to find and kill Luke Skywalker.

 

But that would have required really hurting her. For some reason that was something he was by this point uncharacteristically loath to do. Believing that in her he had everything he needed, Kylo had abandoned the droid with the actual map, and made the snap decision to just take her with him. The possibility of getting the map without going to extreme measures was by far the most appealing of his options . . . and he would also get to see her again.

 

 

Of course once he had her back at Starkiller Base Kylo had other problems to work out.

 

She was not only an enemy of the First Order, having helped the droid and the traitor stormtrooper escape capture, but was also one with vital information and as such she had to be interrogated. She continued to have a strangely humanizing effect on him, however, and Kylo found that not only did he not want to hurt her, but he also did not want to scare her.

 

That in and of itself was also unusual. For Kylo's entire time with the First Order he had carefully crafted his image so everyone would be afraid of his powers and of him. By that point his interaction with other people had been distilled down to two types. Everyone from stormtroopers to Hux he threatened and terrorized with his unpredictable temper and considerable Force powers into giving him whatever he wanted. The other had been Snoke dominating or manipulating him to the same end.

 

But the girl, as he thought of her then, he did not want to scare, and he scaled back his usual interrogation tactics. There had been no softening up by stormtroopers, who he refused to even consider letting touch her. He had not even passed her off to them after capturing her in the forest. Knowing the safest place for her unconscious body in the middle of a battle zone was in his arms, Kylo carried her aboard his command shuttle himself.

 

Of course there had been no similar danger once they were back at Starkiller, but he had still insisted on getting her off the ship himself as well.  Whatever the stormtroopers themselves thought of this deviation from normal operating procedure they had kept it to themselves to avoid incurring his wrath.

 

While he still had to restrain her to the interrogation table, Kylo had forgone his usual ploy of towering over a prisoner in the dark, choosing instead to leave the lights on and crouch submissively at her feet while watching her sleep. At what he cringed at in hindsight, Kylo had indeed managed not to be terrifying, instead merely coming across as deeply creepy.

 

Initially she had still wanted to shoot and kill him, seeing him as a warlord and “creature in a mask.” That was usually exactly how Kylo wanted people to see him, but for some reason with her it bothered him. So after a brief hesitation he did what he never did for anyone and unmasked for her.

 

And that had been much better.

 

Her brave defiance had been interrupted by her beautiful eyes involuntarily sweeping him from head to toe with an admiring appraisal, followed by a series of quick glances in his direction.

 

After that it had been time to get down to business, as Kylo really had needed her to give him the map. He tried just asking her for it, but succeeded only in embarrassing her with a somewhat tactless and snobby remark.

 

Kylo knew at that point just asking was not going to work, and resignedly reminded her, “You know I can take whatever I want.”

 

With unprecedented care he pushed into her mind. The map had not readily been there, and Kylo had instead found himself distractedly drifting off into looking at Rey—that was her name. She was profoundly lonely, maybe even as lonely has he was. However, bringing up Rey’s painful memories caused her distress, and he shifted to something more neutral—an image of island in the middle of an ocean.

 

Then he found Rey memories of his father. That caused him distress, and Kylo could not help but give her a somewhat snide and bitter remark.

 

At that point Rey ordered him out of her mind.

 

Kylo realized then he was unfortunately going to have to use more force. He made one last attempt to talk Rey into relaxing and just letting him take the map, somewhat ludicrously telling her, “Don’t be afraid.”

 

In what he would come to know later as typical Rey, she bluntly told him, “I’m not giving you anything.”

 

 

And then Kylo found out exactly what it was he had sensed in the forest.

 

 

Under exertion, Rey's own raw and shockingly strong Force abilities had flared to life. Kylo suddenly found himself locked a full Force battle with her, a back and forth struggle that ended to his horror with Rey ending up in his mind, and seeing everything down to his deepest fear—that he would never be as strong as his grandfather, Darth Vader.

 

Kylo broke their connection, and in a mixture of shock and exhilaration fled the room.

 

 

He then of course had to endure telling Snoke he could not get the map from Rey. Hux being Hux had shown up, caught Kylo without his mask on, and parlayed the Force user’s lack of success into permission to blow up more planets.

 

Kylo tried to justify himself by explaining Rey’s tremendous strength with the Force. Snoke, who seemed to have a better understanding of what was happening to him than he himself did, merely pointed to Kylo's desire to not hurt her—his compassion for her—as the cause of the Kylo's failure.

 

The Supreme Leader then ordered that Rey be brought to him . . . with the full implications that since Kylo was not going to do what was necessary to get the map, then Snoke would do it himself.  Then Snoke would either kill her or acquire a new apprentice, the later Kylo knew all too well was likely the worse fate.

 

He had denied it to Snoke, but walking back to the interrogation room Kylo realized it was true. Rey reminded him of himself in many ways back when his Force abilities first exploded into his life, and he remembered how hard it had been to try and navigate them by himself. Kylo did have compassion for her.

 

 

And he very much did not want to bring Rey to Snoke.

 

 

The second he walked back into the interrogation room Kylo knew he presently had much bigger problems. Not only had he unwittingly awoken her Force powers, but it was now apparent that his deepest most private fears were not the only thing Rey had seen in his mind. Kylo had a sinking feeling that some of his own training and skill in using the Force had been transferred from his mind and been implanted into hers.

 

And Rey was loose in the base and trying to escape. Kylo did not even want to think about how furious Snoke would be if that happened.

 

He could not let her get away from him.

 

 

 

Kylo finally caught up with Rey and her would be rescuer in the snowy forest outside the base. Having already found the _Falcon_ and with her growing power in the Force making her easier to track, Kylo easily cut off their path. His sole task at the point had been to recapture her and obey his master’s order to bring him the girl. To that end he had rapidly compartmentalized and contained what had happened with his father, as he had simultaneously used the Force to contain the damage from the bowcaster bolt that had ripped into his side.

 

Even now as Kylo looked at himself in the mirror the last memory of his father was carefully sealed elsewhere.

 

“We’re not done yet . . . It’s just us now, Han Solo can’t save you,” Kylo had said as much to himself as to Rey.

 

Rey had looked at him with rage and hate, called him a monster, and drew her blaster to yet again fire on him. In that moment, with everything that had just happened, he had been tired of her shooting at him. Killing two birds with one stone he had Force blasted her against a tree, not hard enough to kill her but enough to both disarm her and render her unconscious, which at that point he knew was the only way in the galaxy he was going to get her back inside the base and aboard a ship.

 

Her companion of course had rushed to her side.

 

FN2187.

 

The traitor stormtrooper who had orchestrated the escape of Poe Dameron—the Resistance pilot it had only taken a cursory mind probe to confirm was his mother’s replacement son. FN2187, who had been mentioned in every report regarding the blasted droid as he had continued to help it evade capture. FN2187, who had been nothing but an obstacle to obtaining the map Kylo needed so badly get the revenge for which he yearned. FN2187, for whom part of Kylo burned with secret jealousy as the _stormtrooper_ who had somehow managed to get away from the First Order, something he, Kylo Ren, with all his Force powers had not managed to do. FN2187, who was cradling the unconscious Rey’s head in his hands, having come to take her away from him.

 

“TRAITOR!” Kylo screamed in challenge.

 

The other man, added insult to injury by producing from somewhere what Kylo recognized instantly from his Imperial archives research as his grandfather’s—rightfully his—lightsaber.

 

And Kylo had had no intention of letting the traitorous stormtrooper have anything that belonged to him.

 

When FN2187 ignited the— _his_ —legacy lightsaber and told him to “come get it,” Kylo had been only too happy to oblige.

 

Though a trained soldier, the traitor had been no match for him. Kylo had enjoyed alternating from brutally asserting his dominance to toying with the other man, right up until FN2187 had gotten in a lucky shot. It had not been significant enough to leave a scar, but the fun had been over and Kylo was done. He disarmed FN2187 in one smooth motion, decked him for good measure, and sliced the other man’s back open with the tip of his red lightsaber. Kylo had planned to collect his grandfather’s saber from the snow along with the unconscious Rey, and then correct his mistake he had made on Jakku when he had given the stormtrooper a pass for not killing anyone by leaving the other man in the snow to die.

 

 

The deactivated legacy lightsaber was stuck in the snow where it landed when Kylo disarmed the traitor.

 

Kylo  stretched out his hand and called it.

 

It did not budge.

 

He tried again.

 

All of a sudden the saber came loose and flew past his face—rejecting his call in favor of another. Kylo turned to see he had knocked Rey out with less force than he realized. She stood fully awake, his legacy saber held in her outstretched hand.

 

Snoke had warned Kylo that as he grew stronger in the dark side of the Force, his equal in the Light would rise. Both master and apprentice had assumed it would be his Jedi Master uncle. But in that moment Kylo had known Snoke had been wrong.

 

The one he was waiting for was not Luke—it was _her_.

 

As Rey ignited the blue blade and chosen to reengaged him, Kylo again had been more than happy to ignite his red one and oblige, glad for an excuse to delay his task of recapturing her and bringing her to Snoke.

 

Forgoing his usual brutality in favor of mirroring Rey’s slashes with finesse, Kylo had chased her with unhurried pace until he had pinned her to the edge of a cliff.

 

Anyone else in such a vulnerable position Kylo would have dispatched over the side without a second thought. But to Rey he made an offer heavily undercut with his own lustful ulterior motives.

 

“You need a teacher . . . I can show you the ways of the Force.”

 

The mention of the Force had recalled Rey to the source of her power and where she could find more.

 

Rey had tried, she really had, but with their sabers locked and his face inches away from hers Kylo could tell she was not actually going to succeed in finding the Force. He let her try for another few heartbeats before pushing some of his own dark energy onto her to help her power up.

 

He then waited expectantly.

 

As her eyes flew open, part of him had wondered if he had maybe overdone it. Intellectually he had accepted Snoke’s warning that he would eventually encounter his equal in the Light, but accustomed to having no true equal he had unconsciously still been unconvinced. Even as he encouraged Rey to take several increasingly hard shots on him, Kylo had not been planning to actually let her win.

 

By the time Kylo realized he had lost control of the situation, however, it was far too late to get it back.

 

Rey proceeded to overpower him, jam his lightsaber into the snow, disarm him, slash a deep gash into his chest and face, before leaving him lying helplessly on his back in defeat.

 

As he lay in the snow, in pain from his wound and his ego more than a little bruised that his impromptu lightsaber lesson had not ended on his terms, Kylo had begrudgingly admitted to himself that in that moment he was even more infatuated with her than before. His jealous, lustful possessiveness were not worthy of her, and Rey had given him something no one else had ever really given him before.

 

Exactly what he deserved.

 

As he watched Rey run away, still clutching his grandfather's lightsaber, back to his father’s ship and likely a consoling hug from his mother—back to his life that he had almost chosen to reclaim—Kylo had realized he was completely smitten.

 

 

 

At the time his scar had been a reminder that such a woman existed—strong with the Force and his equal in every way that was important. What Kylo realized now as he looked in the mirror was he should have seen his scar as a warning of just how badly she could hurt him.

 

 

 

Having to be rescued by Hux before Starkiller Base blew up had been humiliating. What Snoke had in store for him was worse. As Kylo entered the Supreme Leader’s throne room, the smug smile Hux flashed him on his way out had warned Kylo that Hux had somehow managed to stay in favor, and that he was about to get the full brunt of their master’s particularly foul tempered wrath.

 

Snoke had started out slow, confiding to him his use for Hux in a way that always made Kylo wonder what Snoke said to Hux about him behind his back.

 

Then a question of false concern about his wound.

 

With mastery and skill Snoke proceeded to simultaneously build Kylo up with his grand vision for his potential as his grandfather’s equal and rightful heir, and tear him down with ruthless critiques of his inadequacies and incompetence.

 

“The mighty Kylo Ren. When I found you I saw what all masters live to see—raw, untamed power. And beyond that, something truly special . . . the potential of your bloodline . . . _A New Vader . . ._ ” Snoke’s voice crescendoed before continuing in a disappointed tone, “Now I fear I was mistaken.”

 

“I’ve given everything I have to you—to the dark side,” was Kylo’s honest but rather pitiful answer.

 

Snoke’s only reply was to order Kylo to remove his mask, “Take that ridiculous thing off,” before mockingly continuing to Kylo’s exposed face, “Yes, there it is. You have too much of your father’s heart in you, Young Solo.”

 

As usual Snoke was never satisfied, berating Kylo for not killing his father with enough detachment, and in stripping him of his mask had intentionally weakened his connection to the last male in his family for whom Kylo had any respect.

 

The Supreme Leader also continued to accurately perceive that Kylo's defeat had little to do with Rey’s powers and everything to do with Kylo’s choice to mess around with her instead of staying on the task. On that point Snoke had had a new level on which to cut him. After running one reptilian finger along his cheek—a repulsive mockery of tenderness—Snoke had incited Kylo’s uncontrollable rage by throwing his failure with Rey in his face, and deepening the gash with his assessment that Kylo was not yet a man.

 

“Alas, you’re no Vader. You’re just a child in a mask.”

 

 

In the aftermath, Kylo had stood alone in the turbolift—an enraged, humiliated, emotional mess.

 

He briefly contemplated his mask before smashing it to bits with all his Force enhanced strength.

 

The weakness Snoke was using in him as a sharp tool, he knew, was his out of control temper. He could see it coming ahead of time, knew exactly what would happen, and yet was powerless to stop Snoke from masterfully whipping him into a frenzy before setting him loose on the enemies of the First Order. That time had been no different, and Kylo had charged out with his formidable piloting skills, singled handedly delivered a devastating blow to the Resistance, and had nearly chosen to kill his mother.

 

Kylo had not, however, had even an inkling of what was yet to come.

 

 

The first time the Force connected him and Rey, Kylo had been still licking his wounds from his most recent encounter with his master. Getting the last work done on the slash Rey had given him, Kylo was somewhat morosely thinking he would likely never see her again, and feeling grateful for the one silver lining in this mess that at least he had not had to bring Rey to Snoke.

 

Suddenly, he sensed Rey’s presence in the Force, and then—incredibly—she was there.

 

For moment they just stared at each other.

 

Abruptly Rey picked up the blaster she was forever using against him and fired off an angry shot. Kylo instinctively braced himself for the pain that would accompany the bolt, but it never came, and looking down he realized he was unharmed.

 

When he looked back up she was gone, and he practically ran out into the hallway to find her again, sliding across the floor in his haste. She was there looking as confused by all this as he was.

 

Kylo had attempted to compel Rey through the Force to bring him Luke, which would have solved both his problems in one fell swoop. After standing there for several seconds with nothing happening, however, he had started feeling foolish, and dropping his arm Kylo had refocused his attention on figuring out how this was happening.

 

“You’re not doing this, the effort would kill you,” he observed to Rey before asking, “Can you see my surroundings? I can’t see yours . . . Just you.”

 

Rey had been more interested in being angry with him for killing his—in her mind their father—and for, well, everything else.

 

She abruptly turned, her attention caught by something he could not see. Kylo had felt a rush of old emotions knowing his uncle was nearby, accompanied by a new feeling of unease for Rey’s wellbeing as she disappeared.

 

 

The second time the Force connected them she had still been uninterested in helping him figure out how in the galaxy this was happening, preferring to gloat that she had beaten him to Luke—partly he sensed in overcompensation for her unmet expectations of the teacher she had hoped to find.

 

“Murderous snake. You’re too late. You lost. I found Skywalker.”

 

She was also even madder at him than she had been before, if that was possible.

 

Since he was now a snake as well as a murderer Kylo had a pretty good idea what that was about. She had convinced Luke to start training her, and had already gotten some version of his uncle’s “just say no” dark side and forbidden fruit for Jedi human attachment talk Kylo still remembered as being vague and of no practical help.

 

Whether the result of getting crap from Luke or her own conscious, Rey now felt he had somehow corrupted and contaminated her—and was absolutely furious. Well Kylo could not do anything about it at that point, and he had known that if Luke was training her there were a lot more pressing issues at hand and warnings he needed to give her.

 

Kylo asked if Luke had told her what had happened _that_ night, interested to hear how his uncle would spin or bend the truth on that one. He saw, however, that Rey had already made up her mind she was not going to listen to anything he had to say.

 

“I know _everything_ I need to know about you,” she told him with vehemence.

 

“You do?” Kylo said stepping closer to her to get a better look at her face, “Ah, you do. You have that look in your eyes from the forest—when you call me a monster.”

 

“You are a monster,” Rey again called him to his face with the deepest loathing.

 

Well he was a monster—a monster who had just killed his father—and Kylo had no interest in lying to her or denying it. Not backing down he had taken another few steps towards her, his eyes fully meeting hers.

 

“Yes I am,” Kylo told her.

 

As the connection ended he could see that his honest acknowledgement had not given Rey anywhere to go with that fact.

 

 

Kylo had known it was raining where she was by the droplets of water on her face. He was surprised, however, that while inside the _Supremacy_ there seemed to be moisture on his face too. He reached one hand up to wipe his mouth, and briefly watched the drops stream across his glove before balling his hand into a fist and dropping it out of his sight. Kylo remembered fervently wishing that his growing feelings for Rey, the deep complications they were causing in his life, and this whole messy situation could be as easily set aside.

 

 

The third time the Force connected them Kylo had been in the middle of undressing and was shirtless. He had not minded in the least Rey being thrown off balance by the reminder that he was actually a human being, and Kylo ignored her mildly panicked request for him to cover up.

 

The exposing self-disclosure and vulnerability that would accompany the conversation they needed to have, however, was a far more unpleasant prospect. Kylo did, however, genuinely care about her—no matter how imperfectly and whatever Rey thought of him. And since Rey appeared hell-bent on following down the same path and making all the same mistakes he had, Kylo felt compelled to try again to warn her. So he steered the conversation in a direction of uncomfortable truths, hoping to penetrate the blind optimism she operated out of before it got her into real trouble.

 

“Why did you hate your father? Give me an honest answer,” Rey had started out calmly but by the end of her questions was screaming at him with tears streaming down her face, “You had a father who loved you, who gave a damn about you!”

 

“I didn't hate him,” Kylo had replied with more composure in his voice than he felt.

 

“Then why?” Rey choked out.

 

“Why, what? . . . Why what? Say it,” he insisted.

 

“Why did you . . . why did you kill him? I don't understand,” she said, continuing to cry.

 

“No? Your parents threw you like garbage-” Kylo said.

 

“They didn't!” Rey vehemently denied his words.

 

Kylo’s reply was equally emphatic. “They did . . . but you can't stop needing them. It’s your greatest weakness. Looking for them everywhere. In Han Solo. Now in Skywalker . . .” he said, his voice turning ominous at the last.

 

Rey’s obsessive need for parents was something Kylo remembered all too well. Like him, after she had been thrown away she was desperately searching for a replacement. By this point Kylo, himself was done with parents, having run through the fathers she seemed determined to try, and having been trapped with the worst one for many years.

 

Before she ended up like him, Kylo felt compelled to warn her of just how badly his uncle had failed him . . . and that if Rey was not careful Luke would fail her too.

 

Kylo asked her again if Luke had told her what happened _that_ night.

 

Although Rey said yes, Kylo knew whatever his uncle had told her was not the full truth.

 

 

So he told her.

 

 

“He sensed my power—as he senses yours—and he feared it,” Kylo explained.

 

He told her of waking up to find his uncle standing over him with his lightsaber ignited and a crazed look in his eyes, and that he barely managing to block the kill stroke and get away alive.

 

Although Rey reflexively rejected his version to protect herself from the disillusioning implications, Kylo could see in Rey’s eyes she knew he had told her the truth.

 

He had then closed the remaining distance between them, and seized the opportunity to impart to her the hard lesson he had learned—the past, including parents and family attachments, was a weakness that would only hold them both back from reaching their full potential and destiny.

 

“Let the past die. Kill it if you have to. That’s the only way to become what you were meant to be.”

 

 

The connection ended, but a short time later Rey had been back. That time, however, it had not been the Force randomly throwing them together in conversation.

 

Kylo had felt her reaching out, looking for him, and he reached back and they had found each other.

 

Rey looked half drowned. With her damp hair cascading down her back and her clothes sopping wet, she was down to a base layer as she huddled by a fire under a blanket trying to get warm.

 

Kylo could see her usually bright eyes had dulled, and her normally fiery spirit itself had seemed in danger of going out.

 

He listened to Rey's story without interruption—the one she chose to share with him and not the vaulted Jedi Master. She told him that after their last conversation she had gone straight to the dark side cave, something Kylo surmised that Luke had probably explicitly told her not to do. Rey told him about her surreal experience with the cave mirror, her fervent hope for answers about her past that would make sense of her life and her place in the galaxy—hopes that had been devastatingly dashed, leaving her in her current state of misery and loneliness.

 

“You’re not alone,” Kylo had told her with sincerity, conveying that for what it was worth he was with her and she had his support.

 

To his surprise, that seemed for once to be exactly the right thing to say.

 

Instead of anger and hate, Rey’s eyes were suddenly of compassion and trust.

 

Looking at him in a way no one else ever had, Rey replied, “Neither are you . . . It isn’t too late.”

 

In that moment Kylo believed her.

 

 

Rey then reached one hand out to him.

 

 

With the exception of his father’s dying caress, it has been many, many years since Kylo had come in physical contact with another human being. For that matter the vast majority of the First Order personnel had never seen even an inch of his skin.

 

But with their ability to connect through the Force Kylo knew Rey was offering him much more than a simple touch. What she had resisted and refused to give him when he had previously approached her and grabbed with selfish possessiveness, she was now offering him completely as a gift.

 

Kylo hesitated only a moment before removing one glove, and finding himself somehow in the same room with her, he reached his own briefly trembling hand out to her.

 

As their eyes locked and the tips of their fingers met, Rey inhaled sharply and they suddenly knew each other on the deepest possible level. Gone was the antagonism of their previous encounters, replaced by a profound tenderness and intimacy that left them both deeply affected.

 

The moment had been considerably briefer than Kylo would have liked.

 

With his impeccable bad timing Luke had unfortunately chosen that night to stop cutting himself off from the Force, and sensing his nephew’s presence had barged in to rescue Rey from his bad dark side influence.

 

Kylo was not up for a confrontation with his uncle and retreated back to his quarters on the _Supremacy_ , somewhat cowardly leaving Rey to deal with the irate Jedi Master alone. Having himself already dealt with an angry Rey, however, Kylo had a suspicion that after lying to her and blowing up her bedroom his uncle had been about to get more than he bargained for.

 

 

He was once again alone on the _Supremacy_ , but from what he had seen and by that point knew about her, Kylo knew Rey was coming.

 

In her mind she had likely envisioned storming the _Supremacy_ and rescuing him, which was a very Rey way of looking at things.

 

Of more concrete significance, however, her presence would set events in motion that would bring things to a head one way or another. Staring out the reinforced transparasteel that lined the bridge while awaiting her arrival, Kylo prepared to take a leap of faith—trusting that they would be together and that one way or another everything would work out.

 

Rey finally arrived, and Kylo ordered TIE fighters to escort the _Falcon’s_ coffin-like escape pod into the main hanger. He wished he could greet her with the kiss she seemed to be half expecting instead of a pair handcuffs and a pair of stormtroopers, but this situation was already dicier than she realized.

 

 

The long put off task of bringing Rey to Snoke was at that point unavoidable.

 

 

As he marched Rey towards Snoke’s private turbolift Kylo could tell that things were not going how she was expecting them to and she was getting worried. Once they were alone and ascending toward the throne room Rey made her unnecessary pitch to win him over from Snoke’s influence.

 

Rey had kept her hair down and was wearing an out fit he had not seen before. She looked beautiful, but Kylo expected Rey would look beautiful in just about anything she wore. She had called him “Ben,” which he usually hated, but rolling off her tongue he did not minded the sound of his discarded given name at all.

 

Each time the Force had connected them the distance between them seemed to have vanished by the end of their conversation. But that paled in comparison to having her physically right in front of him.

 

Rey had drawn near to him and looked up into his face, confident in the vision she had seen of his future—one full of light. Kylo looked into her eyes shining with hope, remembering the last time he had been this close to her was on the cliff, which felt like a lifetime ago. When she leaned even closer to him to whisper encouragement in a last ditch effort to change his mind, all he could do was whisper back cryptic assurances that he knew she would understand later.

 

Kylo found her presence intoxicating, and as usual she had driven him to distraction. But for once he managed to maintain focus and prepare for Snoke’s scrutiny when the tubolift doors opened. Rey had no concept of the degree of danger into which they were walking. Kylo did of course, and he drew strength and courage from his grandfather’s lightsaber, which he gripped in his hand after confiscating it from Rey.

 

 

Kylo knew he would do it.

 

 

He would get out from under Snoke’s thumb.   He knew what he could not do for himself, even when his father had come for him, he could do for Rey. He did not yet know how, but he knew he would.

 

As he gripped Rey’s arm and walked her down the long aisle to present her to Snoke, Kylo could feel her mounting concern that things were by that point really not going the way she thought they would—that she had been wrong to trust him and wrong to come.

 

All Kylo could do in that moment was take a knee and submissively bow his head.

 

Snoke quickly snatched his grandfather’s lightsaber from out of Kylo's grasp, even while manipulatively lavishing him with the praise Snoke knew Kylo craved in spite of himself, “Well done, my good and faithful apprentice. My faith in you, is restored.” Snoke was always snatching his grandfather away and any connection Kylo had to him—like his mask—even while lifting Vader up as who Kylo should be like and was destined to become. So Kylo was not surprised that Snoke had snatched away his legacy lightsaber.

 

And there it lay.

 

Right beside Snoke.

 

The way to save Rey and himself, and finally be free.

 

Kylo knew he had to wait for the right movement or Snoke would catch on and stop him. Enduring Snoke testing him while waiting for his chance was the hardest thing Kylo had ever done. But for Rey he finally manned up and kept a firm grip on his temper.

 

Rey was brave and Kylo loved her for it, but her defiant resistance was no match for Snoke’s power and perverse pleasure in cruelty.

 

Kylo could barely watch as Snoke drew her close and raised one inhuman clawed to touch her face, knowing from experience the repulsiveness of Snoke’s touch.

 

Snoke’s revelation that he had been the author of the Force bond, that the special connection Kylo shared with Rey was just another manipulation of his emotions as part of Snoke’s evil plan to lure and entrap Rey, had been too much to bear.

 

Kylo could not watch at all as Snoke followed through on doing himself what Kylo had refused to do on Starkiller. Rey’s screams as she writhed in agony tore into him like knives as Snoke violently violated her mind and ripped out Luke’s location before dropping her to the floor, all the while laughing.

 

There followed the heart stopping moment when Rey, spirit unbroken, rose with hand outstretched and called the legacy saber. But Snoke had merely whacked her in the head with it and thankfully returned it to his side, and Kylo began to breath again.

 

Delighting in the scene unfolding before him, Snoke continued to toy with Rey by next showing her the doomed Resistance transports.

 

Even in the face of such a hopeless situation Rey refused to be crushed. She fought on, grabbing Kylo’s red lightsaber off his belt with the Force—calling to her defense the weapons he remembered her finding so intimidating when he freaked her out on Takodana—and took a running charge at Snoke.

 

With a lazy wave of one finger Snoke had sent her sprawling across the floor.

 

Kylo’s red lightsaber flew out of her had, shut down, and had come to a spinning stop at Kylo’s feet.

 

As Snoke spoke Rey’s death warrant, Kylo had already known what Snoke had in mind as the “cruelest stroke” by which the Supreme Leader had already promised to kill her. Done flinging her body around, Snoke contorted her in into a position for execution and presented her to Kylo.

 

“My worthy apprentice, son of darkness, heir apparent to Lord Vader. Where there was conflict I now sense resolve. Where there was weakness, strength. Complete your training, and fulfill your destiny!”

 

Kylo remembered Snoke’s command exactly, because they were some of the last poisonous words he would ever have to hear from the sadistic voice that had tormented him his entire life.

 

As he stood, unlit red lightsaber in hand, Kylo knew he had managed to pass Snoke’s test. Confident in his faithfulness, his master intended him to be the instrument of Snoke’s final lesson to Rey—how thoroughly she had lost the battle for Kylo’s allegiance. From the look of defeat on Rey’s face, and the shock and sorrow in her eyes, Kylo knew that she too was convinced that he had betrayed her. Although knowing her false belief was helping to maintain the illusion for Snoke and gaining strength from looking into her eyes, Kylo was still grateful that he only had to endure the pain of her looking at him that way for another few seconds.

 

His chance had come.

 

Having no intention of wasting it, Kylo used turning his red lightsaber onto Rey with one hand as cover for reaching out through the Force with the other to turn the his legacy lightsaber onto Snoke.

 

Although misreading his intent, Snoke had correctly read his resolve. There had been two things in that moment about which Kylo felt no conflict whatsoever. His feelings for Rey. And the truth that finally broken through years of Snoke’s deception—that while he was his grandfather’s heir, he did not need Snoke to fulfill his destiny.

 

With a flick of his fingers, Kylo had ignited his grandfather's lightsaber, and fatally speared Snoke with the blade.

 

 

And for once in his life Kylo had not worried that he would never be as strong as Darth Vader.

 

 

Understanding nothing of the power of love and the human heart, Snoke had miscalculated and his gamble had led to his destruction. The Supreme Leader had looked down, comprehension dawning that it was Rey who had spoken truth, and that he had indeed underestimated both Rey and Kylo. It was the last thought that passed through Snoke’s evil mind, as with one sure stroke of his fingers Kylo had called the legacy saber and completed the job of slicing his master in half.

 

 

Kylo had left the blue blade ignited, and from the ground where she had fallen after being released from Snoke’s Force grip, Rey reached a hand up and caught the lightsaber out of the air. As she rose to her feet their eyes had locked in renewed understanding for a few precious heartbeats. Kylo had ignited his red saber, and he and Rey turned to face Snoke’s Praetorian Guard that had come upon them to avenge their master’s death.

 

There were four pairs of red armored guardsmen, and Kylo knew they were just extensions of Snoke. The eight bodyguards had tormented Kylo on more than one occasion, and been witness to things Kylo wished to forget. With Snoke and his blue lightning gone Kylo was finally free to meet their attack with unbridled wrath.

 

Back to back and finally in sync with each other, he and Rey were again connected in the Force as they fought for their lives.

 

Without looking at her Kylo was aware of Rey's movements—her successfully fending off the guards’ initial and repeated attacks, and her killing blow that dropped their adversaries down to seven.

 

At one point they collided, and Kylo felt Rey's hand on his thigh as she balanced herself on his back before he launched her back into the fray.

 

Kylo dropped another guard before the remaining six managed to physically if not in the Force separate him from Rey. Thankfully that only two guardsmen went after her, Kylo began the methodic process of picking off the other four one by one as they fought together against him.

 

During a brief stand off between his remaining assailants, Kylo risked a glance at Rey and visually confirmed what he already knew—that she was holding her own, had somehow managed to avoid being double teamed, and was down to one guardsman. Watching her arm get cut open had caused him to momentarily panic, but he had quickly regained focus in the face of the coordinated attack of his three remaining guardsmen.

 

Kylo had taken out two of them and was down to his final attacker before he found himself in real trouble. Narrowly avoiding a vicious swing he dropped his red lightsaber, and found himself in an unbreakable chokehold.

 

Across the room, Rey was in trouble but less so. Spots began to for form in Kylo's vision when he heard Rey call his name.

 

“Ben!”

 

He managed to look in her direction and see that she had finished off her last guardsman and was free.

 

Rey threw the legacy saber to him, and Kylo caught it and ignited it in one fluid motion—blasting a hole through the last guard’s red mask to end their fight.

 

 

Time seemed to stand still for a moment as silence replaced the recent chaos. The climax of their battle over and the entire unit of Snoke’s Praetorian Guard finished off, he and Rey stood in the burning throne room trying to catch their breath.

 

 

In hindsight, the fact Rey had turned her attention to the Resistance before either of their heart rates returned to normal should have warned him they were not on the same page. At the time, however, Kylo had been so overwhelmed with the magnitude of what had happened as he looked at Snoke’s severed body, that her request for him to save the Resistance transports had barely registered.

 

With his deep seeded fears of inadequacy and abandonment Kylo would have never asked Rey to join him if he had not already been confident of her answer—and at the time he had been assured by both the vision he had seen of their future and his knowledge of her past.

 

“It’s time to let old things die. Snoke. Skywalker. The Sith. The Jedi. The Rebels. Let it all die.”

 

Kylo turned away from Snoke’s body and walked towards her.

 

“Rey, I want you to join me. We can rule together and bring a new order to the galaxy,” Kylo declared, extending his hand to her in invitation.

 

The fact that Rey did not immediately said yes, and instead pleaded with him not to ask her—“Don’t do this Ben. Please don’t go this way”—was a complete shock and slap in the face. Their prior roles abruptly reversed, and Kylo became the one getting worried that things were not going how he thought they would.

 

“No, no. You’re still holding on! Let go!” Kylo said, his composure rapidly deteriorating.

 

Unsuccessfully attempting to tamp down his rising sense of panic, Kylo had tried again to make Rey understand that the belonging she craved was not with her parents who had thrown her away, but with him. That he was offering her a chance to move forward into the future no longer tied to the past. Make her understand that no matter how overlooked and discarded she had been her entire life, how special she was to him and how desperately he was in love with her.

 

“You have no place in this story. You come from nothing, you’re nothing . . . But not to me.”

 

Kylo’s second attempt had been honest and heartfelt, but the words had come out unpolished and completely wrong. They had been heavy handed and condescending, and even worse ended up sounding like a version of the line Snoke had fed him for years.

 

But while his words were awful they had not been the real problem.

 

When they had touched hands, both had seen a vision of their future—the same vision Kylo would now never know. But even if it had been, they had each overlaid it with their own hopes, desires, and assumptions.

 

With her blind optimism Rey assumed that in choosing her he would automatically switch sides to the light and the Resistance—that he would change.

 

Kylo believed she would unconditionally stay with him and he would not have to.

 

 

By that point Kylo was truly desperate, and setting aside his pride flat out begged her.

 

“Join me . . . please,” he whispered, his voice filled with emotion as he again reached his hand towards her.

 

As on Ahch-To, Rey again reached out her hand, and Kylo could tell she was seriously thinking about taking his. At the last second, however, she reached out and made a grab for the legacy saber instead.

 

Suddenly their outstretched hands were not reaching for each other but for the weapon between them—the legacy saber that did not take sides that time.

 

With that their alliance was at an end, and they were back to being complicated adversaries. For Rey, he was again someone to fear and no longer trust, against whom she needed a weapon to protect herself. In hindsight, Kylo could not honestly say he would have let her walk out of there graciously. The last thing Kylo remembered of their fight was a flash of light before he was knocked unconscious by the force of what he would later learn was the Resistance cruiser jumping to light speed through the _Supremacy_ and the First Order fleet.

 

 

Kylo had awoken to find not Rey but Hux standing over him in the wreckage of the throne room.

 

Hux, who had always idol worshiped and perversely adored Snoke, seemed genuinely heartbroken by their master’s death.   Kylo’s lie to his rival that it had been Rey who killed Snoke had come out automatically, as he stood and tried to process what must have occurred.

 

When Hux told him that Rey had taken Snoke’s escape shuttle, reality began to sink in.

 

Rey had run off with his grandfather’s lightsaber and left him lying on the ground.

 

Again.

 

Left him unconscious on the floor where, Kylo quickly realized, he had almost been killed in his sleep.

 

 _Again_.

 

When Rey had left him lying in the snow with a sliced up face Kylo had completely deserved it. But for her to abandon him unconscious and vulnerable after his honest declaration and sincere offer—leaving him to wake up to a sliced up heart—that Kylo still did not see how he deserved.

 

He could not remember ever having been quite so upset. In that movement Kylo wanted nothing more than to burn down the whole galaxy, starting with the Resistance that all the people he cared about kept choosing over him. And since after a very brief power struggle with Hux Kylo was the leader of a powerful war machine, he really could start burning down the galaxy.

 

Kylo did not remember much about the battle on Crait. He mostly remembered blinding, uncontrollable rage that escalated with the appearance of his father’s ship, and out of which had come a string of poor tactical decisions. Hux of all people had tried to keep him on task, but Kylo had refused to listen to reason, particularly from Hux. The sudden appearance of his long sought for uncle had only poured salt in his wound, and Kylo had come completely unhinged. He had stopped the advance, been goaded into a fight he could not win, and in his distraction the remnant of the Resistance had slipped through his fingers.

 

His rage subsided as Kylo knelt down and picked up his father’s dice that his mother had clearly left for him in the abandoned base, and a hollow pit formed in his stomach.

 

The Force had then connected him and Rey one more time.

 

He could tell she was on the _Falcon_ , shepherding aboard her friends she was rescuing from him. Kylo had looked up at her in desperate hope one more time. Rey’s response was to renew her irrevocable rejection of him and his offer to be together. The sound of her closing the door of the _Falcon_ in his face Kylo had felt as a physical blow. He looked down again at the golden dice—part of Luke’s illusion—watching as they had disappeared in his hand, like everyone he had ever loved.

 

 

 _“And how would that have worked out?”_ another voice chimed into his internal conversation.

 

If Rey had stayed with him as his dark side princess, how long would it have taken for her to completely lose herself? For the light and everything else about her Kylo had fallen in love with to be completely gone? How long until he found a way to blame her for that too?

 

“She was right to leave you,” he told his reflection.

 

It was a horrible, tortuous thought, and in the depths of his heart Kylo knew it was true.

 

Rey had told him that looking at her reflection in the cave mirror on Ahch-To she had never felt so alone. Now looking at his own reflection Kylo realized that he had never actually been more alone. Everyone in his family was dead or soon would be. His father was dead by his own hand. His mother was near death from the shot he had set up and been too slow to call back. His mother who he had sensed still loved and missed him, she too would soon be gone. His uncle had also met his earthly end, but not in the way Kylo wanted.

 

Rey was also gone and Kylo knew what he had told his uncle in anger was true—he would destroy her. He would have destroyed her if she had stayed with him, and away from him she would refuse to stay out of his crosshairs in what needed to be done.

 

The Force had not connected them again, and for that Kylo was grateful. He simultaneously missed her terribly and never wanted to see her again.

 

Kylo had all the power and finally all the freedom anyone could ever dream of, but he was absolutely miserable.

 

He was more alone now than he had ever thought possible . . . and he always would be.

 

A voice deep inside him screamed in agony. That briefest glimpse with Rey of what the alternative was like making his return to isolation that much more excruciating.

 

Kylo sighed.

 

And this was why he did not usually stare at his reflection in the mirror.

 

Emotions had turned him into an incompetent, irrational, distracted mess.   What Kylo needed to make sure of moving forward more than anything else was that this never happened to him again. He directed the most cruel and biting words Snoke had ingrained in him at the weak part of himself—the part that needed people—until it was cowed into to a subdued whimper.

 

It was time for him to get it together and get back on track. He was finally free from his abusive master and was at last able to fulfill his destiny. He had a vindictive general to stay one step ahead of and ultimately replace. And a promise to keep to his grandfather, to finish what he started and bring peace, justice, and order to the galaxy . . . if necessary by force.

 

It was going to be a busy day.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure if you'd agree or not, but Wayward Jedi had good argument that at it's core the main Star Wars arc is a coming of age story about how to love someone properly. In that vein I think the ST, with the assistance of the Force and some very skilled filmmakers, have managed to explore puberty and sexual awakening in a pretty extensive way that will still go over kids' heads. This is something everyone SWC and LOTS Podcast have pointed out really well in many of their discussion (see below for specifically cited episodes).
> 
> As others have very eloquently pointed out, TFA put Kylo's experience in the forefront ("There's been an awakening . . . have you felt it?" "Yes . . . by the grace of your training I will not be seduced" . . . 10 minutes later chasing maiden through the woods and carrying her off bridal style back to his ship and base). It may have already been done and I missed it, but I'm also still waiting for someone to change the Freud meme to "lightsabers . . . lightsabers everywhere."
> 
> Additionally, one of the many things I appreciate about the ST, particularly in our culture that often demonizes masculine sexuality, is that Kylo’s attraction to Rey seems to have a humanizing effect on him, and is portrayed as a normal and good thing. Furthermore, as part of the redemption arc he seems to walking, all facets of his attraction, including sexual attraction and romantic love, for Rey appear poised to play a major (and likely the decisive) role in his leaving the dark side, as it did in his finally breaking free from Snoke.
> 
> Thanks again so much for reading! Your comments and kudos are much appreciated.
> 
> \----------------
> 
> Acknowledgment of works of commentary that contributed ideas significantly included in this chapter:
> 
> SWC: Villainous Crush Trope and Reylo  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_y4U8UalWI0&t=3s
> 
> SWC: Visual Story Telling in the Force Awakens, parts 1 & 2  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1lnjzWf84yo  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4RKjOHos1e0
> 
> SWC: Visual Story Telling in the Last Jedi  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W07uKC9ufUA&t=2960s
> 
> SWC: The Last Jedi Initial Impressions  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ybke60jGE7Y
> 
> SWC: Rey and Kylo Ren in The Last Jedi  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XuL8hYkTBrE
> 
> SWC: Reylo in the Last Jedi: Broken Apart  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IL5piQO34EY
> 
> LOTS Podcast: Reylo is Endgame, parts 1 & 2  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Uvk3GSLJYjQ  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M_5XRiYNqh0
> 
> LOTS Podcast: Psychology of the Characterization: Kylo Ren  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DsdViE8mse4
> 
>  
> 
> Artwork: Art of the Last Jedi, page 72


	4. A New Luke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke and Rey compare notes on their Vaders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A heads up that this chapter contains a section of Luke telling Rey about his experience in Palpatine's thrown room. I've gotten feedback that for those who (unlike me) grew up on the OT, it can be a bit of a drag. It is a straight up retelling of the ROTJ throne room scene (I myself needed to see it from Luke's perspective one more time before I start jumping into others POV), and if you know the OT like the back of your hand and are finding it is not holding your attention feel free to mentally insert "And then Luke told Rey what happened in Palpatine's throne room when he saved Vader," and skim over it.

 

 

 

**Chapter 4: A New Luke**

 

 

“Impressive,” Luke said with new sincerity.

 

“Thanks.” Rey smiled at him, the blue white light of Anakin Skywalker’s rebuilt lightsaber reflecting off her face.

 

Luke had first appeared to her shortly after Leia had fallen back into a coma, finding Rey alone in her room despondently cradling the two broken pieces of Anakin’s saber in her hands. She had been quite startled to look up and see him walk through a wall, his now translucent form giving off a faintly blue glow. He had asked if he could come in, and receiving her ascent began answering her unspoken question of how it was that he was there—that those strong with the Force were able to delay crossing over to what lay beyond death to help the next generation.

 

“I have a confession to make,” Rey said as she pulled open a drawer to reveal a stack of ancient books. “I took the Jedi texts with me when I left the island.”

 

Luke signed. “That old fox,” he said under his breath.

 

“I’m sorry,” Rey said with remorse.

 

“No, don’t be. I’m glad you have them.”

 

Luke had then inquired how Rey’s repairs to his first lightsaber—his father’s lightsaber—were going, deliberately not pressing her for details on how it had broken.

 

“Not very well,” she had told him. Rey had been devastated to find the kyber crystal at the heart of the weapon had cleanly broken in two. But Luke’s encouragement that half a crystal might work by itself had given her hope, and under his guidance she had set to work.

 

With her knack for fixing things and innate mechanical talent, Rey’s imagination had quickly moved beyond Luke’s basic design instructions. Even with her rapidly growing lightsaber skills she still preferred her quaterstaff. She also remembered the weapon of one of the Praetorian Guardsmen she had fought in Snoke’s throne room—a longer weapon that split in two for close combat. Her finished lightsaber was an elegantly designed double-bladed saberstaff that split into two traditional lightsabers.

 

Rey activated the old training sphere she had found aboard the _Falcon_ , and practiced arching the ignited saberstaff to meet the bolts that emerged from the training module. In a seamless motion she split the weapon apart into two spinning blades, and then joined them back together again. As he had on Ahch-To, Luke noted her skill, as not a single stun bolt got past her.

 

For his part, Luke, who had thrown his own green lightsaber into the sea next to his X-wing, was finally learning the lesson Master Yoda had been trying to teach him all along. He frequently thought back to their conversation when Yoda had found him on Ahch-To—devastated, distraught, and so convinced that it was time for the Jedi to end that he was ready to burn down his world.

 

“Young Skywalker . . .” Yoda said, his voice calm and full of compassion. “Still looking to the horizon. Never here! Now!” He wacked Luke on the nose with his staff, “The need in front of your nose!”

 

“I was weak . . . unwise,” Luke answered his old mentor. Rey again had held out his father’s lightsaber, and he had continued to be unable to accept it or her call to action. He had felt demoralized and sick at heart after watching Rey fly off to certain doom.

 

“Lost Ben Solo, you did. Lose Rey, we must not,” Yoda said with conviction.

 

“I can't be what she needs me to be,” was Luke’s impassioned reply. He recalled Rey telling him he had not failed his nephew, that it had been Kylo who had failed Luke, and that she would not—back before Rey had known the truth about _that_ night, and that he was even at that moment failing her.

 

Luke had missed the “we” in Yoda’s words, and still feeling alone was full of frustration with himself and the Jedi Master who continued to not understand.

 

“Heeded my words not, did you,” Yoda had continued unfazed. “Pass on what you have learned. Strength . . . mastery . . . but weakness . . . folly . . . failure, also. Yes, failure most of all. The greatest teacher, failure is.”

 

Yoda’s words finally penetrated through Luke’s floundering self-pity. It was the first time Luke had realized that Master Yoda had not simply been born wise, but that he like all other beings had had to deal with his share of disappointments, devastating losses, and failure. Yoda’s greatness was not in his never having made mistakes, but in his facing the even catastrophic consequences of his missteps with humility and acceptance—in learning from his failures instead of letting them paralyze him for the rest of his life.

 

 

“Luke . . . we are what they grow beyond. That is the true burden of all masters.”

 

 

They had sat in silence watching the ancient tree burn in what was one of the most poignant moments of Luke’s life. It had helped him finally move on from his paralysis over the traumatizing loss of Leia’s precious son to the dark side, and accept the ways he was still needed.

 

Yoda’s words had galvanized Luke to return to the fight, and be the spark of hope Leia and the galaxy needed—to receive from Artoo Leia’s old message and be the “New Obi-Wan” who was her only hope in her most desperate hour. Staying focused on the immediate task at hand, he had finally listened to Rey and embraced being a legend, stared down the whole First Order with a laser sword, and helped the Resistance escape. He had also found the strength to confront his own guilt, and then his nephew—in a way that would allow Luke to apologize but avoid Ben falling further to the dark side by cutting Luke down in anger.

 

 

But that was not the only change his mentor’s words had wrought. Yoda’s lesson that it was the job of teachers to help students come into their own—even if the apprentice ended up surpassing and differing from the master—gave Luke a new perspective on his own Jedi training. He now realized it was okay for him to grow beyond in his own role as a Jedi and instructor—that he should pass on what he, Luke, had learned even when it differed from what his first mentor Obi-Wan and Master Yoda had believed.

 

Luke also realized that much of the problems of his ill-fated Jedi training temple stemmed from his efforts to resurrect the Jedi Order in as close a form to the original as he could from his research. His rigid imposition of the Jedi Code exactly as it had been during different times and circumstances had been an abysmal failure with his nephew, and again with Rey on Ahch-To.

 

Even while accepting the blame for his efforts at teaching ending in disaster, Luke also could not help but feel that he had put his trust in the Code of the Jedi Order, and that the Jedi of the past had failed him in some way. By the time Rey had shown up on Ahch-To Luke’s disillusionment with the Jedi had grown considerably.

 

“Now that they are extinct, the Jedi are romanticized, deified. But if you strip away the myth and look at their deeds the legacy of the Jedi is failure . . . hypocrisy . . . hubris,” Luke had told Rey with bitterness. “At the height of their power, they allowed Darth Sidious to rise, create the Empire and wipe them out,” he had continued, countering her automatic denial. “It was a Jedi Master who was responsible for the training and creation of Darth Vader.” And, he added to himself, a Jedi Master who was responsible for the training and creation of Kylo Ren. The weight his own failure had brought tears to his eyes.

 

In moments of clearer reflection Luke realized he had not been completely wrong in his critique of the Jedi’s failures and limitations. Parts of the Code where not particularly healthy, and some things did indeed need to end. First on the list was likely the Jedi’s utopian taboo baring all interpersonal attachments. True, personal attachments were messy, unpredictable, and chaotic. Without them life was certainly cleaner and simpler in many ways. All the Jedi had to do to prove their point on the havoc personal attachments could wreak when things went wrong was to point to Anakin Skywalker’s transformation into Darth Vader. But Luke, who had never stopped valuing his relationship his family, knew that the Jedi also had no personal knowledge of the tremendous power of deep and self-giving love—which was in a real sense the purest and most powerful form of the Light.

 

Discerning which parts of the Code were truly essential to serving the living Force and what had merely seemed essential in a time long gone where the Jedi acted as peace keeping soldiers, however, would be a task for the next generation of Jedi. Embracing the importance of families as the building blocks of society and in that sense the Jedi, would likely be a necessary step. Additionally, more respect for free will was needed, including allowing Force sensitive beings to reach an age of maturity before asking for the kind of extreme commitment previously required—if indeed that choice had to be so black and white.

 

But Luke was getting ahead of himself again. Unable to do anything for Leia, the current need in front of his nose this side of the afterlife was helping Rey—the first of this new generation of Jedi—figure out the path down which the Force was guiding her. And this time to not impose on her his own presumptions of what direction that path would take.

 

 

The first time around, Rey had come looking for Luke Skywalker and found a jaded, and mortally wounded in spirit curmudgeon. “You think what?” Luke asked her. “That I’m going to walk out with a laser sword and face down the whole First Order. What did you think was going to happen hear? You think that I came to the most unfindable place in the galaxy for no reason at all? . . . Go away,” Luke had then told her, flatly refusing to help.

 

He had eventually agreed to train her, but his half-assed efforts had succeeded in mainly passing onto her his jaded outlook.   In his final “lesson” to her he had tricked her into believing the Caretakers were in trouble and told her, “Do you know what a true Jedi Knight would do right now? Nothing . . . That anger inside you, the books in the Jedi Library say to ignore that. Only act when you can maintain balance—even if people get hurt.”

 

He still remembered Rey’s just reprove for his cynical lesson about the futility of trusting a “husk of an old religion.” When she had learned of his deception, she had also blasted him for his continued refusal to help the Resistance, “Across the galaxy our real friends are really dying . . . that old legend of Luke Skywalker that you hate so much, I believed in it. I was wrong.”

 

Unlike his nephew, Rey had accepted his apology and forgiven him for the disaster of her first round of training. Having let go of his own anger towards the Jedi and his rigid preconceptions of how a Jedi Master should act and what training in the ways of the Force should look like, Luke had simply set at Rey’s disposal what he had learned—including that which differed from what his own mentors had taught him.

 

Over the last few months he had walked Rey through all the basics of training in the ways of the Force as best he could, helping her learn to hone her concentration and let the strength of the Force flow through her. Not commenting on or speculating how she had come to be in possession of what appeared to be very advanced training in the ways of the Force, he had just unquestioningly helped her build upon it.

 

Rey giving him a second chance to help her was profoundly healing to the wound he had incurred during his failed first venture into teaching. She was quite similar to Luke as a younger man, and she recalled Luke to his true self—hopeful, optimistic, and confident in the power of goodness and the Light—the traits that had inspired him to try and save his father, and which had later led him to try to teach and help his nephew in the first place.

 

It was also not just him that Rey seemed to have helped. From what Luke had inferred from her account of events, Rey had also inspired Han to return to the fight and start acting like Han Solo again. To Leia she had provided a badly needed ally and reason for hope. This mysterious girl with her bright spirit had shown up and seemed to be filling the void left by Ben’s loss in all three of their lives. Rey, with her talent for fixing broken things along with her unfading optimism and hope, seemed to not only have fixed the Skywalker legacy lightsaber, but by her very presence was somehow healing their family as well.

 

 

Luke, furthermore, no longer felt the need or the right impose on her the sweeping Jedi edict against romantic attachments just because she happened to be strong with the Force and had shown up on his doorstep. During the months Luke had helped her train, neither of them had once mentioned his nephew. The more he had come to know Rey, however, the more Luke realized that she was exactly the kind of girl he would have wanted for the isolated, socially withdrawn, and sometimes pessimistic Ben . . . if such a desire had not run counter to his original iron clad plans for his nephew’s future.

 

Rey not only had a strength about her, that of a warrior and a survivor, but she was also incredibly kind hearted and optimistic, often to a fault. For his part, Ben had always been a wealth of common sense and practicality. If Rey was as similar to himself as Luke suspected, Ben would probably have grounded her in reality when her optimism teetered on avoiding things she did not want to face. They would have balanced each other quit well, Luke realized. That was of course before Snoke had woven his spell and transformed Ben into a beast not fit for the companionship of anyone. While the Jedi Master was, therefore, certainly not going to fan the flame between Rey and his nephew, who was poised to crush much of the galaxy under his boot, the new Luke was also done going out of his way with his deliberate attempts to extinguish it.

 

Done with her practice session, Rey deactivated both the lightsaber and the hovering sphere. She smiled as Luke again admired her handiwork.

 

 

“So,” Luke said, a noticeable shift in his tone, “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

 

For a moment Rey hesitated, deciding whether or not she wanted to have this conversation. But she had been carrying what happened on the _Supremacy_ without breathing a word of it to anyone for so long that it was getting too heavy to bear alone. Luke had also taken the time to earn back her trust before asking, and she found she was ready to tell him.

 

“You were right. That’s what happened,” she said, a shadow crossing her usually bright face.

 

She told Luke the story in more detail than she originally intended of what happened after she left him on Ahch-To—events that had gone nowhere near how she thought they would.

 

 

Along with waiting and seeing hidden value in broken things, Rey’s other great talent was rescuing people.

 

Recently this included rescuing BB-8 from Teedo, flying Finn and BB-8 away from the First Order stormtroopers and TIE fighters on Jakku, saving Han from the space gangs, and rescuing Finn from a Rathtar. Of course like Han, himself, Rey was not prone to getting particularly attached to someone just because she happened to rescue them—as BB-8 discovered when he had to beg to be allowed to follow her home, and everyone else quickly found out when Rey was unwavering in her plan to leave them and go back to Jakku even after all they had been through together.

 

Furthermore, never before had Rey gotten herself into a situation where she could not rescue herself.

 

Born of the fact that, on Jakku she grew up believing if she did not take care of herself no one else would, Rey had grown in confidence in her ability to handle any situation that came her way. One way or another she had always managed to get herself out of whatever tight spot into which she landed.

 

Her recent time on Starkiller Base had been no different. Rey had fended off the advances and interrogation of her abductor, gotten herself free, and had set about the task of stealing a ship when Han, Finn, and Chewbacca had shown up and made that unnecessary. Confronting her enemy again she had miraculously defeated him, and with Chewie’s help had gotten herself and Finn back to the _Falcon,_ and safely away a step before the planet blew up.

 

It had, therefore, come as a complete shock to realize that once she was ensnared in Snoke’s clutches she was really and truly in trouble.

 

She had been fairly vague on the details of her plan when she rushed off the _Supremacy_ to save Ben. But she had firmly believed from the glimpse she had gotten of the future that if she took a leap of faith and went to him that he would leave the First Order and the dark side, and come away with her.

 

From the start her rescue mission went completely awry. Ben had greeted her with cold reserve, immediately had a pair of stormtroopers take her into custody, and begun escorting her towards a meeting with his master. Firmly believing Ben would absolutely not bring her to Snoke, her concern and confusion had begun to escalate.

 

Alone with Ben in the turbolift she had felt his conflict wash over her, including a churning of his emotions where she was concerned—something Rey thought had been fairly settled already. She had made a last ditch effort to change his mind. As they stood inches apart and stared into each other’s eyes, she thought she had reached him. But his answer about her turning and standing with him, and his knowing who her parents were—none of it had made any sense.

 

When the turbolift doors opened, Ben grabbed her firmly by the upper arm, and side by side in a parody of a wedding march, he had walked Rey forward to present her to his master.

 

 

“Young Rey,” the golden robed humanoid said in a voice that raised the hair on the back of her neck, “Welcome.”

 

It was then that Rey realized she had made terrible mistake.

 

Ben had submissively taken a knee, consenting to everything that would happen next. Rey had clung fast to her hopeful defiance, confidently boasting to Snoke that he had underestimated Luke, Ben, and her, declaring “it will be your downfall.” In that moment her words had sounded hollow, but she clung to them anyway.

 

Luke listened with empathy as Rey described being toyed with and tortured by Snoke, including him showing her the doomed Resistance transports. Worst of all from Rey’s perspective, in her naiveté she had given Snoke access to Ahch-To’s location and unwittingly betrayed Luke—which was what Snoke really wanted from her anyway.

 

Having failed in her attempt to call her blue lightsaber from Snoke’s side, she grabbed Ben’s red one off his belt, ignited it, and charged at Snoke with unbroken spirit and ineffective fury. Snoke had easily disarmed her and positioned her in front of Ben for the final round of their duel.

 

Ben had picked up his red lightsaber where it had fallen at his feet, and risen to tower over her. He was eerily calm, and for once she could feel no conflict radiating from him. The look in his eyes as he stared down at her and calmly announced, “I know what I have to do,” had sent a chill through her. Rey had made a last desperate plea, but Ben’s expression and sense had not change in the slightest.

 

Behind her Snoke gloated that she had “taken the bait,” and believed Ben Solo cared for her—betrayed by a childish fantasy and doomed to die by hand of her supposed lover.

 

“You think you can turn him? Pathetic child,” Snoke cackled. “I cannot be betrayed. I cannot be beaten. I see his mind . . . his every intent.” Her rival in the twisted contest for Ben’s loyalty drew his words out in way that made Rey physically ill. “ _Yes_ . . . I see him turning the lightsaber to strike true . . . and now . . . foolish child . . . he ignites it . . . _and kills his true enemy!_ ”

 

There was then nothing else she could do but braced herself for the blow that would kill her.

 

She heard the lightsaber ignite and cried out as she felt the impact—until she realized the jolt to her body was not from being pierced with a lightsaber like Han, but was from her being dropped to the floor.

 

Luke raised his eyebrows as Rey described looking back and seeing it was Snoke who Ben had betrayed and pierced with a blade.

 

In hindsight Rey realized Ben had been planning to rescue her all along. He was jut more pragmatic and had chosen a course of action that would actually work. Unable to save herself, Ben had shown up for her when Rey had really needed him.

 

Grabbing the ignited lightsaber out of the air as Ben recalled it, Rey had risen from the ground and turned to face him. They had briefly exchanged looks—hers of relief and his somewhat apologetic for having had to leave her in the dark. With renewed understanding they had turned, and back to back teamed up to take out Snoke’s guards.

 

The fight successfully completed, however, their mutual understanding had immediately begun to fall apart. They were in complete agreement they would be together, but each had assumed the other would switch to their side of the Force and the war. She had expected that he would simply leave the First Order and seamlessly come with her to the Resistance. In hindsight, especially after already dealing with Finn’s commitment not automatically extending to beyond herself, she should have known better. Ben too had had his own assumptions and unrealistic expectations.

 

With effort Luke refrained from raising his eyebrows as Rey told him of the much different temptation to the dark side that she had withstood than the one he had personally faced.

 

Though tempted to accept the easier more immediate path to be together that Ben had offered her, Rey had known deep down that the Dark would corrupt any genuine love they had begun to feel for each other, and if she fell to the dark side they would both be lost.

 

With Rey’s rejection of Ben’s proposal, they had found themselves in an impassioned standoff they were all too capable of getting into, during which they had actually broke Anakin’s lightsaber in half. Their battle of opposing wills had only ended when the Resistance flagship had jumped to hyperspace through the _Supremacy,_ and knocked them both unconscious.

 

Rey had come to first. It had killed her to leave him lying there, but she knew once he woke up their fight would pick up where it left off, and this was her only chance to get away cleanly before something happened they would both regret.

 

“I couldn’t stay,” Rey said. As it had been in the throne room, her face was a reflection of her deep heartbreak.

 

“And he couldn’t leave,” Luke finished, his eye softening in sympathy.

 

“In the end I failed,” Rey said, her expression crestfallen.

 

She did not share with Luke how much she had longed to brush Ben’s hair from his face before she left, but instinctively knowing what her abandoning him like that was going do to him when he woke up, she had known she was not worthy. The heartbroken look in his eyes the last time the Force had connected them had shown her she did not know even the half of it. There was passionately desperate pleading in his eyes as he knelt before her, and Rey could tell his offer still stood. But the terms had not changed, and she still could not accept.

 

As she renewed her “no” by closing the door of the _Falcon_ , she fervently hoped that someday circumstances would allow her to reopen it and give him a different answer.

 

On the one hand a lot had changed for the better, but on the other Rey had known even before she left him unconscious in the throne room that there would be a major fallout from her impetuously rushing to him but then having to leave. She also knew she bore some significant responsibility for everything that had already happened on and since Crait, and whatever would happen in the future.

 

“Well failure can often be a valuable teacher,” Luke said, recalling her to the present moment. “And I think you failed less than you think you did. You didn’t get killed or turned to the dark side, which is what I was worried would happen.” He could tell his words were mollifying her as her expression became increasingly less despondent. “I don’t think I was giving either of you enough credit.”

 

 

 

“Look Rey,” Luke continued, as he sat down beside her, “When I told you not to go to Ben and that it wouldn’t go the way you thought it would, I was speaking from personal experience.”

 

He proceeded to tell her of his own quest for a teacher back when his Force gift was newly manifesting and strange, of finding a Jedi Master to instruct him, and of all the subsequent events. He told her details of the story that he had not shared with anyone else—details full of his own youthful folly that had definitely not made it into the legend of Luke Skywalker.

 

Luke’s experience in his search for a teacher was simultaneously exactly the same and completely different from Rey’s.   He had landed on Dagobah looking for a great warrior, and found the deceptively diminutive looking Master Yoda. He had initially thought little of the two-foot tall, green skinned creature with large ears, dressed only in rags.

 

“I am wondering, why are you here?” The creature asked after sneaking up on him.

 

“I’m looking for someone.” Luke stated vaguely.

 

“Looking?! Found someone you have I would say. Humm,” the creature replied, before cackling at his own joke. “Help you I can . . . yes.”

 

“I don’t think so,” Luke said dismissively. “I’m looking for a great warrior.”

 

“ _Oh_ . . . great warrior,” the creature laughed and walked closer. His future mentor then delivered his first lesson—which in Luke’s annoyance had gone straight over his head.

 

“Wars not make one great.”

 

 

Yoda for his part had enjoyed playing to Luke’s view of him as a nuisance. Yoda’s test of Luke’s humility and how he would treat a being he considered lesser than himself was a test Luke had failed quite miserably. Finding himself eating stew in the little green creature’s hut instead of being taken to the great Jedi Master he sought, Luke had completely lost his temper. “Oh, I don't even know what I'm doing here! We're wasting our time!”

 

Yoda had turned away from him, and with new aura of poise and gravitas suddenly coming over him, he spoke to someone Luke could not see. “I cannot teach him. The boy has no patience.”

 

To Luke’s utter astonishment the voice of his deceased Jedi mentor Obi-Wan suddenly filled the room, “He will learn patience.”

 

To his growing list of reasons why he would not teach Luke, Yoda then added Luke not being ready, Luke being too old, Luke having much anger in him like his father—and likely Luke’s previously given answer of the reason he wanted to become a Jedi in the first place was because of his father. Obi-Wan patiently answered all Yoda’s objections, with Luke periodically chiming in with protests and professions of his readiness that seemed only to add weight to Yoda’s position.

 

“Ready, are you?” Yoda had finally addressed Luke, his tone full of annoyance. “What know you of ready? For eight hundred years have I trained Jedi. My own counsel will I keep on who is to be trained!” Yoda exclaimed with passion. This subject appeared to render him rather touchy. “This one a long time have I watched. All his life has he looked away to the future, to the horizon. Never his mind on where he was . . . What he was doing.” Yoda had poked him with his walking stick, and continued with what Luke had known was a valid criticism, “You are reckless!”

 

Luke was angry and had been for a long time, and Yoda’s mention of his father touched a deep nerve. All his life Luke had felt he was supposed to be somewhere else—that his destiny was out in the stars he looked up at night and not on Tatooine. His uncle had been determined to squash it out of him, and turn Luke into a moisture farmer if it killed them both. All Luke knew about his father was he had been a navigator on a spice freighter, and Luke had been left on Tatooine under the guardianship of Uncle Owen Lars and Aunt Beru . . . and that was all he knew.

 

As he entered the normal rebelliousness of adolescence “left” soon became “dumped” in his mind. All of Luke’s questions to his aunt or uncle about his parents or where he came from were automatically answered by his uncle emphatically stating “I told you to drop it,” or something equally vehement. Even his increasingly urgent requests to be allowed to leave and enter the flight academy where continually put off—if his uncle had his way indefinitely. Unlike at the end of his life when the feeling of peace and fulfilled purpose had filled him as he watched the twin suns slip beneath the Ahch-To sea, on Tatooine Luke had stood on a sandy bluff and gazed out at the binary sunset—back before his life had really begun and he felt it never would—and all he felt was trapped and full of despair.

 

The only one who seemed to understand Luke’s restlessness was Ben Kenobi—who Luke would one day learn was the Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi, and after whom Luke’s nephew would be named. He was an old hermit who lived in the hills and used to visit Luke from time to time. His uncle always told Luke that Obi-Wan was “just a crazy old man,” and Obi-Wan wisely chose times when Luke was alone to approach him.

 

On Dagobah it was Obi-Wan who fought for Luke to be trained as a Jedi like Luke’s father.

 

Sitting in Yoda’s tiny hut, Luke set aside the rather disconcerting thought that Yoda had been watching him through the Force his whole life, and continued to plead with the Jedi Master in his desperate need for help, “But I've learned so much.” To Yoda’s question to Obi-Wan as to whether Luke would finish what he started, Luke added emphatically, “I won't fail you.”

 

The Jedi Master had looked down and sighed deeply, appearing to let go of the idea that denying Luke training in the ways of the Force would somehow correct some past mistaken yes. Yoda had eventually accepted the inevitable conclusion that Obi-Wan and even Yoda himself had known all along. Luke had to be trained, and Yoda had to do it. Because if Yoda refused, there were other . . . less ideal masters aggressively seeking the job.

 

 

So Yoda had begun Luke’s training in earnest. Luke recalled long days of running through the dense swampland, periodically jumping, flipping through the air, and swinging from vines—all with the Jedi Master on his back. Luke learned to let the Force flow through him and draw his strength from it. Lessons in concentrating and focusing his mind in the Force usually involved standing on one hand, Master Yoda balanced on one of his feet, using the Force to move objects, sometime more than one at a time.

 

The most dramatic lesson of course had been when the Jedi Master had pulled Luke’s submerged X-wing out of the swamp. Luke had been devastated by the sight of his fully submerged ship, but Master Yoda had calmly told him to lift it out with the Force, and scoffed at Luke’s laments it was impossible.

 

“So certain are you. Always with you it cannot be done. Hear you nothing that I say?” Yoda said, shaking his head.

 

“All right, I'll give it a try,” Luke had replied with resignation.

 

“No!” Yoda said with passion, “Try not. Do or do not. There is no try.”

 

Luke tried to lift the X-wing as he had the stones. It got part way up out of the water but went not farther, and then sank back beneath the surface. “I can't,” Luke said, trying to regain his breath, “It's too big.”

 

“Size matters not,” chided Yoda. “Look at me. Judge me by my size, do you?”

 

Luke shook his head.

 

“And well you should not. For my ally is the Force—and a powerful ally it is.”

 

Something about the way Master Yoda spoke about the Force had made a deep impression on Luke . . . which was made still deeper by the Jedi Master lifting Luke’s X-wing out of the water with a simple hand gesture and a demonstration of the intense concentration Yoda was always trying to get Luke to master.

 

 

Then of course there had been the cave.

 

As Luke had already pointed out to Artoo, all of Dagobah seemed like something out of a dream. The cave itself, however, had had a particularly strong quality of lucid dreaming. It was hidden beneath a large, gnarled tree that was black with death, and surrounded at its base by mist and a few feet of water. What Luke had noticed even before seeing the tree was the deep and deathly chill, and the sense of something being not quite right.

 

“That place . . . is strong with the dark side of the Force,” Yoda had looked up from where he had been stirring the dirt at his feet with his staff, an indefinable expression on his face. He pointed to the tree. “A domain of evil it is . . . in you must go.”

 

 

“Wait a minute,” Rey interrupted. “He _told_ you to go in _as part of your training_?” She was surprised and more than a little confused.

 

“Instead of making me feel that I had to go in behind his back, and face whatever I found inside all alone?” Luke said, another subtle but sincere apology for what had happened on Ahch-To. He felt her accept his olive branch and continued with his story.

 

 

“What's in there?” Luke had asked Master Yoda.

 

“Only what you take with you,” was Yoda’s cryptic answer.

 

Master Yoda told him he would not need his lightsaber, and Luke had ignored him and taken it anyway. He had lowered himself through the cave’s opening into the earthy cavern was full of vines, snakes, and lizards. To say the dimly lit chamber full of strange reptilian sounds was unsettling was a gross understatement. It was the last thing he wanted to do, but Luke forced his feet to walk further in.

 

In a still darker part of the cave he heard the sound of heavy footsteps . . . then mechanical breathing. He was startled and horrified to see Darth Vader striding towards him out of the shadows. Luke had ignited his father’s blue saber and engaged his advisory. Vader drew his own saber and the red blade classed with Luke’s until Luke finally decapitated him. The black clad body had collapsed, with the severed head of Vader rolling to a stop near Luke before the mask abruptly exploded. Looking down as if into a mirror, Luke saw to his horror his own face revealed beneath the mask.

 

Luke had not understood until much later that what he had taken into the cave and also found there was the darkness inside himself—a darkness that dwelt to some degree in all fallen beings—and his vulnerability to falling to the dark side and becoming a New Vader.

 

 

“Rey,” Luke said, again briefly breaking from his narrative, “I know you wanted to see something else in the cave on Ahch-To, but I have to say, I don’t think you realize how significant it was that what you saw in that mirror was yourself as you are.” Rey had not thought of it that way before, and it was something she would have to consider.

 

 

Luke continued to tell her about Master Yoda’s warning regarding the dark side of the Force. “Anger . . . fear . . . aggression. The dark side of the Force are they. Easily they flow, quick to join you in a fight. If once you start down the dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny-”

 

 

“But do you really believe that’s true?” Rey again interrupted.

 

Luke had never talked about these things in depth with anyone before. Rey was challenging his memory of past events, and his assumptions that anything Obi-Wan and Master Yoda said were automatically completely correct.

 

“I believe as long as someone stays on the dark side that’s true,” Luke said after thinking for a moment. “But do I think it means someone can’t come back from the dark side, and if they do will it still cloud everything . . . No, I don’t.” Even as he articulated his real opinion, it seemed to surprise him a little. He was also now sorry he had blindly included that line just because they were Master Yoda’s words in his lessons on the dark side to his students . . . an audience which had included his nephew.

 

But was that really true either? Luke now wondered to himself. More likely it was only partly true. Crimes had consequences, and it was more likely that they had to be atoned for in some way in order for someone to really be free from the resultant dark side influence. Atoned for by the individual repentantly leaving the dark side . . . or someone else.

 

Anakin had been redeemed before he died, but the more Luke thought about it the more he realized his father’s crimes as Vader had not been atoned for. If the darkness Anakin had accumulated over a lifetime on the dark side had not just disappeared or stayed with him upon his death, then where had it gone? Was is passed onto the Imperials? Or more likely the darkness and consequences that did not die with Vader had gotten passed down through the Skywalker bloodline . . . to manifest in unexpected and very negative ways.

 

If it was true that the consequences for Vader’s unatoned crimes ran in his family, to Luke’s mind that would explain some of the problems that ran in his family too. It would also shine a new light on the predicament of his nephew. In true Han and Leia style, they had gotten married immediately after the Battle of Endor, and Ben had been conceived mere months after the Rebel’s victory . . . and Anakin’s death. Furthermore, Ben had been born on the very day the Battle of Jakku had ended, when the Empire itself had died, and Ben’s life had been intrinsically connected with those galactic events from the start.

 

For the umpteenth time but especially in that moment, Luke wished he had spent more time talking to and simply being present to his nephew. Wished he had spent more time focusing on how the events of recent history had impacted Ben specifically, and been less narrowly focused on the Jedi Order in general.

 

If he had he likely would have come to a different conclusion the night he looked inside his nephew and saw all that darkness. His automatic assumption had been that the darkness belonged to Ben. But what if the darkness he saw had not originated from Ben . . . but was darkness he had inherited along with his Force abilities as part of the Skywalker bloodline.

 

 

Luke remembered the rainy night on Acho-To, when Rey had stood over him, ironically with briefly ignited lightsaber in hand, and demanded the truth about _that_ night.

 

“I saw darkness,” Luke had said, not able to meet her eyes. “I’d sensed it building in him. I’d seen it in moment during his training. But then I looked inside, and it was beyond what I ever imagined,” Luke had been sickened by what he saw in his nephew’s mind. “Snoke had already turned his heart. He who would bring destruction, and pain, death and the end of everything I love because of what he will become . . . and for the briefest moment of pure instinct I thought could stop it.” Luke had reflexively pulled his lightsaber off his belt and ignited it to slay his nephew as he slept. “It pasted like a fleeting shadow. And I was left with shame . . . and with consequence.”

 

The last thing Luke remembered seeing, as Ben woke up and saw him sanding over him with a drawn lightsaber, was not a monster—but the eyes of a frightened boy looking at one.

 

Luke had avoided falling to the dark side for so long and under some extreme circumstances. But caught off guard, that was the night he had come the closest to following his father—who had entered the Jedi Temple and slain all the Padawans and Youngling—down the path to becoming a New Vader.

 

It was a fate Luke had narrowly missed. But as he sidestepped that dark shot, he left his nephew open to being hit instead. Luke had not killed any Padawans that night, but came to from Ben crashing his hut down to find that his nephew in fact had. Luke’s impulse to kill Ben to prevent the rise of a monster and the death destruction and pain he would bring, had accomplished the very thing Luke was hoping to avoid, and was the critical moment in the New Vader’s origin story.

 

Snoke had understood, but Luke had not. Maybe if Luke had thought more about what it meant for Ben to carry Skywalker blood he would have known how to actually help his nephew, instead of creating the disastrous situation with which the entire galaxy was now grappling. But even now Luke did not really know what to do. However, as he looked at the situation from this side of the afterlife—looked at Rey—he knew the Force was still with his family. And he was starting to believe that just maybe the Light had set in motion it own plan to try and save Ben.

 

 

Setting aside his musings Luke got back to telling Rey his story, and how his training had come to an abrupt halt after seeing his first Force vision: Han and Leia in trouble in a city in the clouds—Han tortured, both in pain.

 

“It is the future you see,” Yoda had told him.

 

“Future? Will they die?!” Luke was alarmed.

 

With head bowed and eyes closed Yoda replied, “Difficult to see. Always in motion is the future.”

 

“I've got to go to them,” Luke said, spurred into action by the possibility he was not too late to help his dearest friends.

 

“Decide you must how to serve them best. If you leave now, help them you could. But you would destroy all for which they have fought and suffered,” Yoda coolly replied.

 

 

Luke had no idea what Yoda was talking about, and immediately began prepping his X-wing. His gear was hastily packed and Artoo loaded into his socket, and by nightfall Luke was ready to take off.

 

“Luke! You must complete the training!” Yoda made an impassioned plea for Luke to stay. “You must not go!”

 

Obi-Wan as a Force sprit had then appeared to back up Yoda and try to convince Luke not to leave.

 

Luke’s impatience and frustration spilled out, “But I can help them! I feel the Force!”

 

“But you cannot control it,” Obi-Wan said. “This is a dangerous time for you, when you will be tempted by the dark side of the Force,” he added rather vaguely. “It is you and your abilities the Emperor wants. That is why your friends are made to suffer.” The glowing Force spirit had gotten a little closer to the matter at hand, but still skirted the real issue.

 

Yoda added, “Only a fully trained Jedi Knight with the Force as his ally will conquer Vader and his Emperor. If you end your training now, if you choose the quick and easy path, as Vader did, you will become an agent of evil.”

 

Luke heard the words, but was oblivious to the cast of characters who had been facing off for decades, and did not understand he was the new focal point of their fight. All he could think of was to stay meant abandoning his friends.

 

“And sacrifice Han and Leia?!” Luke angrily countered his mentors.

 

“If you honor what they fight for . . . yes,” Yoda said.

 

 

It was the worst possible thing Yoda could have said.

 

 

It served to reinforce in Luke’s mind that Master Yoda and Obi-Wan did not care that his real friends could be really dying. For their part, Yoda and Obi-Wan had danced around the issue from all angles, but had continually neglected to disclose the rather major detail Luke was missing. A detail that would have definitely caught his attention, and helped him understand what they were really worried about—and possibly even changed his mind about rushing off. But in the end they left the truth unspoken, and Luke would have it supplied to him by another.

 

At their wits end the two exasperated Jedi had shouted imparting words of wisdom including “Don't give in to hate—that leads to the dark side,” and “Mind what you have learned. Save you it can,” to Luke’s back as he climbed into his X-wing. As the canopy dropped over his head, Luke had promised that he would be back soon to complete his Jedi training, and then rushed off to Cloud City to rescue Han and Leia from Darth Vader.

 

For the first time, the much older Luke had a new perspective on what it must have been like for Master Yoda and Obi-Wan to watch him fly away to be either killed or turned to the dark side—confident that their worst most traumatizing failure was about to happen all over again.

 

 

In his X-wing bound for Cloud City, Luke had remembered the first time he had heard the name of Vader, the man who had killed his father, Anakin Skywalker, and robbed Luke of growing up knowing him. He had been sitting in Obi-Wan’s hut on Tatooine learning the truth about Anakin that his uncle had deliberately concealed from him.

 

Like Obi-Wan, his father had been a Jedi Knight, a guardian of peace and justice in the Old Republic.

 

“He was the best starpilot in the galaxy and a cunning warrior,” Obi-Wan’s voice was full of admiration and affection. “And he was a good friend.”

 

The older man had risen and walked toward a wooden chest. “Which reminds me, I have something here for you. Your father wanted you to have this when you were old enough.” From inside he removed what looked like a silver tube and handed it to Luke. “It's your father's lightsaber,” Obi-Wan said. Luke ignited the humming blue blade for the first time, and looked on in fasciation as he sliced it through the air. “This is the weapon of a Jedi Knight,” Obi-Wan explained.

 

Luke deactivated the saber, and had then asked the question that burned most strongly in his heart. “How did my father die?”

 

Obi-Wan sighed. “A young Jedi named Darth Vader, who was a pupil of mine until he turned to evil, helped the Empire hunt down and destroy the Jedi Knights. He betrayed and murdered your father,” Obi-Wan told Luke. “Now the Jedi are all but extinct. Vader was seduced by the dark side of the Force.”

 

In this strange new world of Jedi and Force powers, Luke was quick to get his bearings. The Jedi were good and on the light side of the Force. The dark side of the Force was evil, and Vader, the man who killed his father along with the rest of the noble Jedi, was one of the most evil men in existence. This view of things was only solidified on the Death Star as Luke watched in horror as Vader cut down Obi-Wan, robbing Luke of the new father he had just found and needed so badly.

 

 

Luke had arrived on Cloud City, and found the corridors strangely deserted. He saw stormtroopers and what looked to be a bounty hunter of some kind escorting a flat metal panel, which Luke would later realize was Han frozen in carbonite. He saw more stormtroopers escorting Leia, Chewie with Threepio in pieces on his back, and another man through a door. Leia saw him and screamed to him that it was a trap. Undeterred Luke followed them through the door, determined to find and save his friends. He found himself locked in a turbolift car, which dumped him out into a strange and darkly lit chamber, filled with machinery, steam . . . and the presence of Vader.

 

“The Force is with you, young Skywalker,” Vader’s mechanical voice eerily filled the room. “But you are not a Jedi yet.”

 

Holstering his blaster, Luke held his lightsaber, and confidently headed up a set of stairs to engage his enemy. Luke ignited his father’s blue white lightsaber and Vader answered by igniting his red one. With effort Luke blocked and parried both Vader’s lightsaber slashes and his verbal assaults.

 

“You have learned much, young one,” Vader said.

 

“You'll find I'm full of surprises,” Luke replied his voice full of defiance.

 

Vader disarmed Luke, who lost his balance and rolled down the stairs to land sprawled on the grated metal floor. In one giant leap Vader flew like a raptor to land beside him, forcing Luke to roll towards the center of the room and the carbonite freezing chamber Luke did not know was there.

 

“Your destiny lies with me, Skywalker. Obi-Wan knew this to be true,” Vader said, as he herded Luke towards the trap.

 

“No!” Luke screamed, who had come prepared to repel any invitation to the dark side.

 

Vader proceeded to Force blast him into carbonite freezing chamber. Luke leapt from inside, and having narrowly missed Han’s fate, he hung to the tubing on the ceiling. Vader looked up at him. “Impressive . . . most impressive,” he said as he attempted to cut Luke down by slashing through the tubing, which released more fog. “Obi-Wan has taught you well. You have controlled your fear . . . now release your anger,” Vader continued to goad him towards the dark side. “Only your hatred can destroy me.”

 

Luke flipped down off the ceiling, directed the gas pouring out of one the tubes into Vader’s face, and reached out to recall his lightsaber. Their duel resumed. Luke caught Vader off balance and sent him falling to the level below. Unable to see Vader, Luke jumped down after him. Moving through a series of tunnels, Luke found himself in the city’s reactor room in front of a giant bay window. Vader emerged from the shadows and renewed their fight. But in addition to blocking slashes from Vader’s lightsaber, Luke found himself having to duck large objects that Vader ripped from the wall and hurled at him through the Force. One large piece of machinery missed Luke and smashed straight through the window, and suddenly the room was filled with rushing wind. Luke was suck out into the reactor shaft and began to free-fall.

 

Luke only just stopped himself from falling further by clinging to the edge of a catwalk, and was able to pull himself onto the suspended metal. Vader followed him down. As their lightsabers repeatedly clashed, the black clad monster slowly pushed Luke towards the end of the line.

 

“You are beaten. It is useless to resist. Don't let yourself be destroyed as Obi-Wan did,” Vader said, as he took another swing. Still defiant Luke rolled out of the way, nicked Vader in the shoulder with the blade of his saber, and jumped to the other side of the gantry’s railing. Their dueling continued, and Vader slashed away part of the metal work.

 

Then came the moment when Vader disarmed Luke and cut off his right hand. Luke screamed in agony as his severed hand and Anakin’s lightsaber fell into the depths of the shaft.

 

“Luke, you do not yet realize your importance,” Vader said, as Luke tucked his handless arm under his armpit and scooted away from him to the extreme end of the gantry. “You have only begun to discover your power. Join me and I will complete your training.” Vader’s voice took on a note of pleading, “With our combined strength, we can end this destructive conflict and bring order to the galaxy.”

 

“I'll never join you!” Luke screamed.

 

“If you only knew the power of the dark side,” Vader said with conviction.

 

As Vader continued, Luke had detected a distinct change in the tone of his enemy’s voice. “Obi-Wan never told you what happened to your father.”

 

“He told me enough! He told me you killed him,” Luke said, looking at Vader with the deepest possibly loathing.

 

 

“No,” Vader said, before uttering the words that turned Luke’s world on its head. “ _I_ am your father.”

 

 

Already going into shock from the pain of losing his hand, Luke looked at Vader with stunned disbelief. “No . . . No . . . That's not true! . . . That's impossible!”

 

“Search your feelings. You know it to be true,” Vader answered him.

 

And as Vader’s words sunk in, Luke found to his horror that he did.

 

 

“Luke,” there was a new urgency in Vader’s voice, “You can destroy the Emperor. He has foreseen this. It is your destiny. Join me, and together we can rule the galaxy as father and son.” Vader reached out one black-gloved hand to Luke in insistent invitation. “Come with me. It is the only way.”

 

It was the only sane way. But all Luke wanted to do in that moment was get as far away from Vader as possible. Filled with a new calm, he gave Vader one last look before dropping over the edge to follow his severed hand and Vader’s old lightsaber into the open shaft.

 

 

Luke had found himself dangling by his legs and one arm to a weathervane on the very bottom of Cloud City. Initially, he had reflexively called out to Obi-Wan through the Force—Obi-Wan who had told Luke he either could not or would not help him if he chose to confront Vader. Obi-Wan who had lied to him.

 

For some inexplicable reason he had called out to Leia instead . . . and equally inexplicably had known she had heard him. A few minutes later the _Falcon_ roared into view, and a few minutes after that Luke was safely aboard and hooked up to the _Falcon’s_ med bay.

 

As the _Falcon_ and its occupants tried desperately to get away from Vader and his Super Star Destroyer, Luke again felt his adversary calling to him through the Force.

 

“Luke,” Vader had reached out to his son, a new tone of affection in his voice.

 

“Father,” Luke called back, looking in Vader’s direction.

 

Sensing the door was not quite closed Vader tried again, “Son, come with me.” Luke could hear the pleading in his father’s voice. “Luke . . . it is your destiny.”

 

Completely overwhelmed, all Luke could do was cry out to Obi-Wan out of the depths of his pain and confusion, “Why didn’t you tell me?” And again, “Why didn’t you tell me?” But as when he was stuck under Cloud City, Luke again received no answer from Obi-Wan as the _Falcon_ jumped into the safety of hyperspace.

 

 

It was then, Luke told Rey, that his world had been turned completely upside down. Vader was no longer a monster Luke could just simply hate, but his own longed-for father. Furthmore, the mentors who had lied to him, Luke could no longer blindly trust. Recovering from the initial shock of Vader’s revelations Luke had begun to adjust to the truth.

 

As he reflected on his encounter with his father, Luke began to notice there had been something else in Vader’s sense: Light. It was dim, but it was there—there was still good in his father.

 

 

As she listened to Luke, Rey too remembered the simplicity of hating Kylo Ren. Whether facing off against him for real or shadow boxing with an ill-fated Ahch-To rock as a stand in, she had burned with it. He had murdered Han, the father she had just found and needed so badly. He had then almost murdered Finn—the family she had just found and needed so badly.

 

He had also abducted her on Takodana. Grabbed her and carried her off to Starkiller Base—dramatically stopping her from ignoring everyone’s counsel and going back to Jakku to waste the rest of her life.

 

Although she would never say it out loud to Luke or anyone else, she had hated him even more for the inexplicable and uncontrollable attraction she felt towards him. When he removed his mask to reveal not the hideous creature of her imagination, but a regally handsome young man she could not stop herself from staring at—something other than her Force powers had woken up, something which startled and scared her just as badly. He seemed to go out of his still uncouth way to avoid causing her serious harm, and Rey knew he was dangerous to her in a way very different from the way he was dangerous to her friends and everyone else. She had not been purely motivated by a desire to get away from him or avenge Han and Finn when she chose to fight him in the forest . . . something of which he had seemed all to aware.

 

But as with Luke and Vader things had gotten considerably more complicated. Unlike the Luke she had met on Ahch-To, one thing Ben had never done was lie to her. He told her the truth about what had happened to him, related to her out of his desire to in some way protect and support her. It was then that her solid footing of loathing had crumbled under her feet. She had begun to feel compassion for him—and eventually something more.

 

 

 

Luke proceeded to tell her it had taken the better part of a year to rescue Han from Jabba the Hut on Tatooine. During that time Obi-Wan, whose voice Luke had previously heard regularly with guidance and encouragement, remained silent. With the mission successfully completed, Luke and his artificial right hand had flown back to Dagobah to fulfill his promise to finish his training—only to find Master Yoda was dying.

 

Luke had felt a rising sense of panic that he was about to lose yet another mentor. “Master Yoda, you can't die,” he pleaded with the now frail Jedi.

 

“Strong am I with the Force . . . but not that strong,” Yoda said, his breath beginning to become labored. “Twilight is upon me and soon night must fall. That is the way of things . . . the way of the Force.”

 

“Master Yoda . . . is Darth Vader my father?” Luke asked, his heart burned with the truth, but he still held out hope that this was all some cosmic joke or giant misunderstanding. Yoda did not answer and changed the subject. When Yoda rolled away from him Luke asked again with more insistence, “Yoda, I must know.”

 

“Your father he is,” Yoda sighed. “Told you, did he?” he said with regret and resignation. “Unexpected this is, and unfortunate . . .”

 

“Unfortunate that I know the truth?” Luke was indignant.

 

“No. Unfortunate that you rushed to face him . . . that incomplete was your training. Not ready for the burden were you.”

 

“But I've come back to complete the training.”

 

“No more training do you require. Already know you that which you need,” Yoda said, acknowledging the work Luke had continued to do on his own to develop his Force abilities over the past year.

 

“One thing remains: Vader. You must confront Vader. Then, only then, a Jedi will you be. And confront him you will.” Yoda was briefly racked by coughing, but gathering his strength he added insistently, “Do not underestimate the powers of the Emperor, or suffer your father's fate, you will.”

 

With his dying breath Yoda had told Luke he was now the last Jedi but not the last Skywalker . . . and then passed into the Force.

 

 

Grief-stricken and demoralized, Luke had walked back to Artoo waiting by his X-wing— dejectedly confiding to the little droid that he had no idea what to do next, and the prospect of going on alone was completely overwhelming.

 

“Yoda will always be with you,” said Obi-Wan, who himself had not been with Luke in quite some time.

 

Luke looked up to see the translucent form of Obi-Wan striding into the clearing.

 

“Obi-Wan. Why didn't you tell me?!” Luke tried to stay calm, but his voice conveyed how upset he was that his mentor had lied to him. “You told me Vader betrayed and murdered my father!”

 

“Your father was seduced by the dark side of the Force. He ceased to be Anakin Skywalker and became Darth Vader. When that happened the good man who was your father was destroyed,” Obi-Wan said, laying out his self-serving logic as to why his previous rendition of events was not a lie. “So what I told you was true . . . from a certain point of view.”

 

 _“A certain point of view?_ ” Luke said, his voice dripping resentful incredulity.

 

“Luke, you're going to find that many of the truths we cling to depend greatly on our own point of view,” Obi-Wan said sagely.

 

 

Rey did not interrupt his narrative, but Luke could tell by her internal scoffing and the look on her face that she was buying the validity of Obi-Wan’s disregard for the existence of objective truth out of personal convenience even less than Luke had at the time.

 

 

“Anakin was a good friend. When I first knew him your father was already a great pilot, but I was amazed how strongly the Force was with him. I took it upon myself to train him as a Jedi. I thought that I could instruct him just as well as Yoda. I was wrong,” Obi-Wan said, his voice full of regret.

 

“There is still good in him,” Luke argued.

 

“He's more machine now than man . . . twisted and evil,” Obi-Wan said sadly. The glowing Jedi rejected Luke’s impassioned declaration that there was still light in Anakin, unbeknownst to Luke, having already discounted the same assertions from Luke’s mother years ago.

 

“I can't do it,” Luke said.

 

“You cannot escape your destiny. You must face Darth Vader again,” Obi-Wan was firm.

 

“I can't kill my own father,” Luke said again with deeper conviction.

 

“Then the Emperor has already won. You were our only hope.” Obi-Wan looked away, emanating disappointment in Luke.

 

 

Luke paused as he remembered being told the only hope for the galaxy was his committing patricide. For her part Rey finally understood the origin of Luke’s—to her mind unfathomable—impulse to kill his own nephew as a noble act of duty to protect the galaxy. Luke had initially rejected the command to kill Darth Vader, his own father, which Obi-Wan had been given by Yoda and now passed down to Luke. But the instructions had remained and lain dormant in Luke. Decades later when as a new teacher Luke had sought to model himself after his own mentors, Obi-Wan’s destructive edict had reared its ugly head . . . this time with devastating consequence.

 

 

On Dagobah, the young Luke had known he did indeed need to face Vader again—not to follow Obi-Wan and Master Yoda’s murderous mandate—but to try and bring his father back to the Light.

 

On Endor he had told as much to Leia—the other Skywalker. He had figured out while talking to Obi-Wan on Dagobah that Leia was his twin sister. His sister, who the Jedi had justified separating from him out of the felt need to hide them both from their father and the Emperor. His sister with whom he had been reunited by the Force.

 

Leia had been horrified by the revelation that Darth Vader was their father, and terrified of Luke’s plan to confront him instead of running away.

 

“There is good in him. I've felt it,” he told Leia. “He won't turn me over to the Emperor. I can save him. I can turn him back to the good side . . . I have to try,” Luke said with conviction—his words and beliefs strikingly similar to the ones Rey’s would one day convey to him—before he rushed off to face Vader again.

 

 

As on Cloud City, from the start Luke’s rescue mission had not gone anywhere near the way he thought it would.

 

Luke had surrendered himself to the garrison guarding the shield generator on Endor, and the Imperials had confiscated his recently constructed lightsaber and taken him into custody. Vader’s Lamda shuttle had arrived from the new Death Star, and a short while later Luke was again standing alone in front of his father.

 

“The Emperor has been expecting you,” Vader said.

 

“I know, Father,” Luke replied calmly.

 

“So, you have accepted the truth.”

 

“I've accepted the truth that you were once Anakin Skywalker, my father,” Luke clarified.

 

Vader was suddenly no longer calm, “That name no longer has any meaning for me!”

 

“It is the name of your true self. You've only forgotten,” Luke said, his voice filling with passion. “I know there is good in you. The Emperor hasn't driven it from you fully.” Luke turned his back to Vader and gazed out at the forest as he played all his cards, “That was why you couldn't destroy me. That's why you won't bring me to your Emperor now.”

 

From behind him Luke heard the disconcerting sound of his lightsaber being ignited. “I see you have constructed a new lightsaber. Your skills are complete. Indeed you are powerful, as the Emperor has foreseen,” Vader said, his tone once again calm and intimidating.

 

“Come with me,” Luke turned back to face his father and tried again pleadingly.

 

“Obi-Wan once thought as you do. You don't know the power of the dark side,” Vader’s voice once again reverberated with intensity, before adding more softly and with a hint of regret, “I must obey my master.”

 

Luke remembered Yoda’s words and caution against underestimating the Emperor, and he was starting to realize he may have made a mistake.

 

“I will not turn . . . and you'll be forced to kill me,” Luke tried yet again to elicit an emotional response from Vader.

 

“If that is your destiny . . .” was all Vader said in reply.

 

“Search your feelings, Father. You can't do this!” Luke pleaded, “I feel the conflict within you. Let go of your hate!”

 

“It is too late for me, Son,” his father had told Luke, for the first time his voice was filled with great sadness. “The Emperor will show you the true nature of the Force. He is your master now.”

 

Vader motioned and two storm troopers appeared.

 

“Then my father is truly dead,” Luke said with bitterness as he let himself be escorted onto the turbolift that led to Vader’s shuttle. His eyes locked on Vader until the door closed and his father was cut off from view.

 

What followed was a short flight to the Death Star, a long but silent turbolift car ride with Vader to the Emperor’s throne room, and a walk up to Palpatine himself that felt like an eternity.

 

Seated on his throne, the Emperor has slowly turned to face the pair before addressing Luke.

 

“Welcome, young Skywalker,” Palpatine said in a grating voice that chilled Luke to the bone. “I have been expecting you . . . I'm looking forward to completing your training.” The Emperor smiled evilly. “In time, you will call me master.”

 

“You're gravely mistaken,” Luke said clinging to his resolve with bravado, “You won't convert me as you did my father.”

 

“Oh no, my young Jedi . . .” Palpatine rose and walked towards him. He peered into Luke’s face, giving Luke a better look under his hood at his withered and frightening countenance. “You will find that it is you who are mistaken . . . about a great many things. By now you must know your father can never be turned from the dark side. So will it be with you.”

 

Vader handed the Emperor Luke’s lightsaber, and Palpatine returned to his throne, setting the lightsaber beside him. Palpatine then methodically stripped away Luke’s confident resolve—laying before Luke the details of the trap he had set for his friends, and making him stand at a viewport and watch as the Rebel fleet began to be pounded by the superior forces of the Imperials that had lain in wait to ensnare them.

 

Luke had felt hatred for the evil man swell within him, but that seemed to only play into the Emperor’s twisted plans for him. Finally Luke could contain his rage no longer, and taking back his lightsaber through the Force, he ignited it and swung at Palpatine with all his strength.

 

Palapatine had of course had no intension of letting Luke kill him, no matter what he said.

 

Luke had found himself again dueling with the father he had come to save—the father everyone else wanted him to kill. Obi-Wan and Master Yoda, who Luke realized did not fully understand the family bond between a father and a son, wanted Luke to kill Vader for good of the galaxy. The Emperor understood exactly what killing Vader would do to Luke—turn him to the dark side and enslave him in the Emperor’s service. Even Vader, for some unfathomable reason Luke did not understand, seemed to want his son to strike him down.

 

Palpatine was taking a perverse enjoyment in watching father and son fight, although it was his periodic words of encouragement to Luke to give in to the his hate and aggression that recalled Luke to himself more than once. Luke had then disengaged, flatly told his father he would not fight him, and tried to hide instead.

 

It was only when Vader learned about Leia from reading Luke’s thoughts that Luke was again goaded into fighting. Gripped with fear and furious with himself for betraying Leia, Luke was enraged with their father for threatening her and charged Vader with unbridled fury.

 

In a reversal of their first duel on Cloud City, Luke drove Vader out onto a catwalk above an open shaft. Finding an opening Luke cut off his father’s sword hand, and this time it was Vader’s red lightsaber and mechanical right hand that fell into the depths of the Death Star. Luke stared down at his father, who was suddenly completely at his mercy.

 

The Emperor had been delighted. He ordered Luke give in to his anger, deliver the killing blow, and succeed Vader as his apprentice. Palpatine’s words again recalled Luke to his right mind. He looked down at the blade of his green lightsaber, which he held in his right hand—before focusing this full attention on the hand itself. The hand that Vader had taken from Luke on Cloud City . . . that was now Luke’s own mechanical hand like the one he had just cut off his father. He remembered Master Yoda’s warning and his vision in the dark side cave that he now understood.

 

Fully in possession of his reason, Luke made his decision. He threw his own lightsaber away and permanently ended the duel in a draw—refusing to commit patricide and turn to the dark side.

 

 

The Emperor had not been amused.

 

 

No longer smiling or laughing, Palpatine had begun sending jolts of blue lighting into Luke. With Luke writhing on the ground in pain the Emperor finally address him, “Young fool. Only now, at the end do you understand. Your feeble skills are no match for the power of the dark side.”

 

Luke screamed in agony as Palpatine sent wave after wave of lightning into him. Luke cried out, begging his father to help him . . . but Vader stood motionless and the lightning kept coming. Luke could feel the internal conflict radiating from Vader, but his father chose to stand passively as his master’s side.

 

Luke realized this was how his mission was going to end—with his father watching the Emperor kill him. The end was approaching, Luke realized as he continued to scream in pain.

 

All of a sudden the conflict in Vader had ceased along with the bolts of blue lightning searing into Luke. Luke watched as his father picked up Palpatine and hurled him down the open shaft—at the last refusing to let his master kill his son.

 

Vader had then collapsed. Recovering somewhat from being tortured by Palpatine, Luke had made his way to his father, and rested his father’s helmeted head against his own shoulder as Vader slide to the floor.

 

Vader’s loyalty was not the Emperor’s only miscalculation. Han, Leia, and the Endor taskforce had succeeded in getting the shields down, and the Rebel fleet was starting to hold their own in the battle. Luke realized he and his father were still going to die on the Death Star if he could not get them out of there.

 

With Luke supporting his father’s weight they made their way back towards Vader’s shuttle. When his father could no longer walk Luke dragged him through the growing chaos of panicked Imperials, who were trying desperately to get the battle back under control.

 

Luke had managed to drag his father to the ramp of the shuttle when his father stopped him with a request.

 

“Luke . . . help me take this mask off.”

 

“But you'll die.”

 

“Nothing . . . can stop that now,” Vader said, his breathing becoming more labored. “Just for once . . . let me look on you with my own eyes.

 

Luke obeyed, carefully removing Vader’s helmet and mask, before looking for the first and last time into the eyes of his father Anakin.

 

“Now go, my son. Leave me,” Anakin said in his own voice.

 

“No. You're coming with me,” Luke said with desperate insistence. “I'm not leaving you here! I've got to save you!”

 

“You already have, Luke.” Anakin said with gratitude and pride. “You were right . . . You were right about me. Tell your sister you were right . . .”

 

His father had smiled at him, and then closed his eyes. A second later Luke felt through the Force that he was gone. Amidst the sirens and sounds of battle that raged around him, Luke felt the wave of grief that wash over him mingle with his joy at his father’s redemption. It turned the moment bittersweet.

 

Luke had then dragged Anakin’s body aboard the shuttle and took off away from the Death Star, just making it out of the blast radius when the _Millennium Falcon_ and the rest of the Rebel fighters managed to blow it up. On Endor he had replaced the mask and burned his father’s body on a funeral pier, as all around him and throughout the galaxy beings celebrated the death of the Emperor and the end of his tyrannical reign.

 

After burying his father, he reunited with Leia, Han, Chewie, and the droids—his family. Off to the side he saw that the Force spirits of Obi-Wan and Master Yoda had been joined by one of a young man that Luke knew was his father Anakin. All three looked at him with pride, and Luke realized his joy outweighed his sorrow.

 

 

After that Luke had become a legend.

 

Reveling in his success in redeeming his father, Luke remained full of hope and retained his blindly optimistic worldview, which Rey herself understood all too well—until of course his nephew had given him a jarring and traumatizing dose of reality.

 

Anakin had destroyed the institution that raised him and fallen to the dark side. Luke had narrowly managed to avoid the path of killing and succeeding his father. That was not enough, as it turned out, to eliminate the spirit of patricide in the Skywalker bloodline. The young Luke was the redeemer and incorruptible champion of the Light. As an older man, however, he was responsible for driving his nephew to the dark side and creating a patricidal New Vader. In the later part of Luke’s earthly life and even beyond its end, it was sorrow that took the preeminent place.

 

 

In listening to Luke’s version of legendary events, Rey realized she, like everyone else, took the outcome for granted. She doubted most people understood just how real a possibility it had been for Luke to have ended up running around doing the Emperor’s bidding as the next Vader. Her first impression of the legendary Jedi Master Luke Skywalker had been disappointing. The more she got to know him this time around, however, Rey realized her initial impression was thankfully wrong. In spite of his inevitable blind spots, shortcomings, and human fallibility, Luke was really a remarkable man.

 

She also could not help but compare Luke’s mission to save Vader with her own failed attempt to rescue Vader’s grandson. Luke’s situation had been much dicer than hers she realized. Vader had apparently only decided to turn from the dark side to save his son at the last second. In hindsight, Ben had been planning to betray Snoke and save her the whole time. Snoke had also not been trying to turn her to the dark side as the Emperor had been with Luke. The Supreme Leader seemed to only want use her to finally obtain Luke’s location, and—more disturbingly—deepen Ben’s commitment to the dark side and Snoke personally.

 

No, it was Ben who tried to turn her to the dark side. His attempt had also highlighted to Rey that Ben had moved beyond thinking of Light and Dark as good and evil. His belief that he was right combined with his relativistic worldview, through which he justified all the First Order’s deplorable actions, put her at a loss for how to reach him.

 

 

Recalling Mater Yoda’s words to Luke, Rey wondered if there was anything she should have done differently that would have resulted in a different outcome.

 

“Do you think if you were a fully trained Jedi you would have been more prepared to face Vader?” Rey asked. “Do think that was true?”

 

“No, not really,” Luke said, reflecting on another of Rey’s poignant questions. “I think the only thing that saved me was my choice to love my father, even if he was a monster and even if it killed me. I think in the end sacrificial love, particularly in the context of family bonds, is the purest form of the Light. My love for my father kept me anchored no matter what the Emperor and Vader did to try and turn me.”

 

“So when you took the bait for Vader’s trap and went to Cloud City was it right? Or was it wrong?” Rey asked, and Luke could tell she was trying to get a sense of how to gauge her own recent actions. “If you hadn’t rushed off you would not have found out Vader was your father, and wouldn’t have tried to save him. With the Emperor and Vader both been still alive that could have changed the outcome of the Battle of Endor. The Alliance could have been crushed, and the dark side would have won. If you hadn’t ignored your mentors and gone to Cloud City that could have changed the whole course of history!” Rey was confused, “I don’t understand the right way to think about all this or what it means.”

 

There really was not a clear-cut easy answer to such a complicated question, and Luke took a moment before replying. “I think it means even the wisest of mentors aren’t omniscient or infallible. I also think it’s not beyond the Force to makes adjustments and contingency plans.”

 

“In other words what’s done is done. I should stop second guessing what happened, and let the Force fix whatever mistakes I made,” Rey said, finally letting go of her perceived failure.

 

“Yes.” Luke said.

 

 

Luke remembered her words to him about his nephew back on Ahch-To right before she took off in the _Falcon_ on her own rescue mission. “You failed him by thinking his choice was made. It wasn’t. There’s still conflict in him. If he would turn from the dark side that could shift the tide. This could be how we win!” She had had so much hope in her eyes and conviction in her voice, and had refused to let him throw cold water on it. “If I go to him Ben Solo will turn,” she had continued. And when he had refused the outstretched lightsaber she offered him as an alternative, she had added, “Then he’s our last hope.”

 

Luke could tell that even after everything that had happened Rey still believed her original assessment had been correct—that getting Ben back from the dark side and having him as an ally was the best way to help the New Rebel Alliance beat the First Order, and bring balance to the Force. He also knew she would still be on this course if saving Ben Solo for his own sake was the only goal. But the new Luke, who was trying to be much more sensitive to the already heartbroken young woman’s feelings, did not press the issue.

 

“What do I do now?” Rey asked.

 

“Continue your training,” Luke said, “and wait for the Force to make the next move.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know TLJ Luke was very controversial, but I personally liked that they found a way for Luke to be a dynamic character. With regard to Luke briefly contemplating killing Ben, I think the fact that Master Yoda and Obi-Wan both ordered Luke to commit patricide for the good of the galaxy is something that often gets glossed over. Although Luke was able to reject it with regard to Vader, I think it is believable that that command was dormant in him and briefly flared up toward the kid everyone (especially his mother) was worried would become the “New Vader”—with self-fulfilling and tragic consequences.
> 
> I also remember reading a study looking at a certain profession that found individuals who were very idealistic and driving were the most vulnerable to burning out and becoming disillusioned. I find it believable that Luke was so traumatized and disillusioned with what happened with Ben that he shut down. I enjoyed his journey to move beyond that in TLJ, and expect him to be more himself in IX.
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you very much for reading, and for the comments and kudos. They are much appreciated and motivating!  
>  
> 
> \-------------------------------
> 
> Acknowledgment of works of commentary that contributed ideas significantly included in this chapter:
> 
>  
> 
> SWC: Villainous Crush Trope and Reylo  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_y4U8UalWI0&t=3s
> 
> SWC: Visual Story Telling in the Last Jedi  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W07uKC9ufUA&t=2960s
> 
> SWC: The Last Jedi Initial Impressions  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ybke60jGE7Y
> 
> SWC: Rey and Kylo Ren in The Last Jedi  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XuL8hYkTBrE
> 
> SWC: Reylo in the Last Jedi: Broken Apart  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IL5piQO34EY
> 
> LOTS Podcast: Reylo is Endgame, parts 1 & 2  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Uvk3GSLJYjQ  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M_5XRiYNqh0
> 
> LOTS Podcast: Psychology of the Characterization: Kylo Ren  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DsdViE8mse4
> 
> LOTS Podcast: Reylo vs. Anidala - Couple Contrasts in Star Wars  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xdnZHfFf2-A&t=3s
> 
> LOTS Podcast: Rey and Reylo: Psychology of the Characterization  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rP0NTri4fB8&t=3480s
> 
>  
> 
> Artwork: Art of the Last Jedi, page 29


	5. Ben Solo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First part of Ben's back story, childhood on Hosnian Prime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here the first part of Ben’s backstory. I know a lot of other people have depicted him as a rebellious teen and bad seed difficult child, who was largely responsible for what happened to him. But that is not how I see him at all.
> 
> I really liked how in "Kylo Ren and the Portrayal of Masculinity in Star Wars" it was pointed out that Kylo actually never whines or complains about anything.
> 
> I think Ben is actually the least responsible for what happened to him, and that the fact that Anakin did not get to raise his children had lasting effects that impacted Ben. I think Ben was essentially raised by orphans who all had terrible parenting skills (and did not tell him Luke was his uncle or Vader was his grandfather), and he ended up feeling like an orphan, which strengthened his compassion for and resonance with Rey.
> 
> I tried to keep to the general plot line of the Bloodline novel, but did change some things, specifically I changed that Ben was always away with Luke (which I think was a plot device to keep him a mystery box) to sometimes away with Luke. I would also argue that by the time of the events of Bloodline, Leia is not a reliable narrator when it comes to what is actually going on with her kid.
> 
> He's also supposed to be Star Wars Mr. Darcy--really good guy with impeccable character who the servants all love, but who can't talk, and "has all the goodness while others have all the appearance of it."
> 
> I also wondered what it would be like to have a father who had trouble with human connections and could not stay in one place for very long. And even more interesting to my mind, I wondered what it would be like to have a mother who was the youngest Senator in the history of the Imperial Senate, was a leader in the Rebel Alliance as a teenager, and who likely "wore the pants" so to speak in the family even though her husband was 13 years older than her.
> 
> I tried to keep all that in mind and here is what I got. I thought he turned out pretty likable, and it was actually really hard to turn him to the dark side and cast him into the hands of Snoke.

 

 

 

**Chapter 5: Ben Solo**

 

 

“Did you get it?” There was an edge to Kylo’s voice as he addressed the nightmarish figures that comprised the Knights of Ren. Although he remembered a brief time at his uncle’s ill-fated Jedi training temple when he had hoped they would be . . . they were _not_ his friends.

 

 

As Ben Solo, son of Rebellion heroes Han Solo and Leia Organa, he had never really had any friends among his peers on Hosnian Prime. Having two famous parents had made that impossible. Sure there had been those interested in getting close to him to bask in the reflected glow from his famous family, but all for reasons that had absolutely nothing to do with Ben himself.

 

By the time Ben was in middle school, both of his parents’ careers had begun to really take off. His father had added a successful spaceship racing career and mobile flight academy to his shipping business. Unable to stay in one place for long, Han was also increasingly away from home, much to Ben’s disappointment. His mother’s duties in the New Republic Senate seemed to mount by the month, and even when she was on planet she seemed to live more at her office than with Ben in their penthouse apartment.

 

Both orphans without much of an example of parenting to follow themselves, his parents seemed to subscribe to the opinion that once Ben was old enough to get himself to school and keep himself alive on food that was left for him, Ben was also old enough to be fine in their absence. As he grew older it became increasingly hard for Ben to not take that personally.

 

With his parents progressively spending more time away from home, Ben was often left alone to the competent but fairly indifferent care of one of his mother’s aids. His relationship with his parents also steadily moved online as they began to chiefly communicate by exchanging holonet messages. Getting to talk to one of his parents in real time was a pleasant surprise. Having one of them actually home was a rare treat. Having both his father and mother home at the same time was a cosmic event and brief taste of heaven.

 

As the years went by and their communication became increasingly superficial, Ben felt a chasm opening up between him and his parents. Even as there were some rather important things that his parents never not gotten around to telling him—as he would one day learn—it did not seem to occur to them there might be things that Ben too did not feel comfortable sharing remotely.

 

To make matters worse, his father and mother were both pretty volatile people who wore their emotions on their sleeves. It did not enter their minds that just because their son never lost his temper and was not a whiny, rebellious teenager that Ben was not struggling. His mother could often sense his inner turmoil when she was around him, but his mother was never home. Expressing his feeling, which his parents ignored and taught him to do likewise, was therefore something Ben did not learn to do while growing up. Throughout his adolescence it remained an unpracticed and woefully underdeveloped skill, and in the end Ben found it was easier to just stuff his feelings deep down and pretend they were not there.

 

 

The other important adult in Ben’s life was Uncle Luke. Jedi Knight and eventually Jedi Master, Luke Skywalker had fought along side his parents during the Galactic Civil War, and was a very close family friend. As a child Ben loved to listen to Uncle Luke’s stories from the days of the Rebel Alliance, especially his retelling of events that were filled with details his father downplayed. Han was actually fairly self-deprecating, and growing up idolizing his father Ben had loved to get the unvarnished version of his father’s brave and daring deeds that helped free the galaxy from the evil Empire.

 

At the same time nothing really beat his father’s bedtime stories from when Ben was little and his father was still home. His father had told him about growing up as a free spirit under the oppressive Imperial regime, and all the scrapes he and Uncle Chewie—the Wookie who Ben grew up considering to be a hairy jungle gym—would get into and then out of with the assistance of the legendary Solo Luck. Although likely including some details his mother would have preferred Ben not hear, his father’s stories filled Ben’s heart with a desire to do good, and a love for reckless adventure and doing the right thing.

 

 

And falling asleep in his father’s arms made Ben feel safe . . . that for a few minutes the harsh and critical voice in his mind could not get him.

 

 

No matter whose version he was listening to, Ben’s favorite story by far was the time his father, Uncle Chewie, and Uncle Luke had rescued his mother from the Death Star right out from under Darth Vader’s nose. Darth Vader had turned out to be Uncle Luke’s father, and Luke vaguely told Ben that Vader had turned back to the Light before he died. Luke was pretty short on details when it came to Vader— it was too hard to explain now—but he would tell Ben more when he was older. As a result, most of what Ben knew about Darth Vader—the most evil man in the galaxy—was from school. At times when his parents had let him down in some particularly painful way, Ben often consoled himself by thinking of Uncle Luke, the Son of Vader, and remembering that it could always be worse.

 

Ben, however, never did get more details from Uncle Luke about Vader. Around the time his parents left, Luke too became increasingly caught up in researching the now extinct thanks to Vader Jedi of the Old Republic. Destroyer of the Death Star, Hero of the Rebellion, and to many a demigod as the last Jedi, Luke soon had quite a following. In his quests to scour the galaxy for information about the Jedi of old—the holy grail of course being finding the site of the first Jedi Temple—Master Luke was always accompanied by his devoted acolytes. Ben thought of them more as Luke’s groupies.

 

Uncle Luke had also told Ben from an early age that he too would be strong with the Force one day—although Ben had had no idea why beyond the fact that his mother was somewhat Force sensitive as well. Even before Ben’s powers began to manifest, the strength of his Force sensitivity and the tremendous Force abilities they foreshadowed had been much talked of particularly by the Jedi Master and his mother. Leia, however, also possessed a deep uneasiness about Ben’s anticipated strength with the Force, something her perceptive son had quickly picked up on from an early age. Ben began to suspect that his mother sensed the dark shadow that he sometimes felt inside himself.

 

Han, who resented the special connection Ben’s anticipated Force gift created between Ben, Leia, and Luke, but not him, had always been fairly blasé about his son’s possibly Force abilities. As a child, his father’s dismissive attitude had hurt Ben. . . a lot.

 

In the end, Ben assumed Uncle Luke’s plan for Ben to follow in his footsteps was like his parent’s plans for him. His pilot father wanted his son to become a pilot. His senator mother wanted him to go into politics. And Jedi Master Luke Skywalker wanted him to be a Jedi. Little consideration was given to what Ben himself might want to do with his life, and he began to feel increasing torn in different directions.

 

Everyone’s wishes and plans for him, however, were not equal. Ben was not sure how things worked in other families, but for all his father’s bluster Ben knew that if his mother really wanted something that is what was happening. What Leia Organa wanted for her son was a fancy Hosnian Prime education. In practice what that meant for Ben was as the rest of his family was increasingly off planet, he himself was stuck there when school was in session.

 

How Ben spent his breaks from school soon became another source of contention. What Ben wanted was to spend time with both his parents—the three of them together as a family. That was not going to happen so he settled for one of them . . . if he was lucky. His mother was usually putting out and endless series of fires in the government and did not have substantial chunks of time to spend with him even when he was not in school, so Ben preferred to spend his vacations visiting his father. As long Ben came to him wherever in the galaxy Han happened to be on the racing circuit, his father made time to see him, took him flying, and as seamlessly as possible included his son in his life.

 

An additional bonus of being with his father was he usually got to spend time with his father’s other close friend, Lando Calrissian. “Just Lando,” as he insisted Ben call him, was a successful businessman who seemed to have investments in a wide array of industries throughout the galaxy, and which included Han’s shipping company. Lando frequently showed up to wherever Han happened to be racing to “check up on my investment, you old pirate.” Ben knew Lando just wanted to drop in and see his old friend.

 

The _Falcon_ , which Han had won from Lando in a game of sabacc always came up within the first five minutes of Lando’s visit. “You stole my ship,” Lando would say accusingly. “I won her fair and square,” Han would answer in an affronted tone. The argument, Ben knew would never have a resolution, but after several decades both parties’ words lacked bite.

 

His father was charismatic in a not trying, smuggler way, which his mother referred to as his endearing “scruffy, nerf herding, scoundrel charm.” It was one of his parents many coded phrases. As a child Ben learned pretty quickly that his mother calling his father a “nerf herder,” or him calling her “your worshipfulness” was their way of picking a fake fight with each other. While Ben secretly found it reassuming and stabilizing that his parents were still in love, he also knew those phrases were his cue to leave the room if he did not want to endure the excruciatingly embarrassing sight of his parents passionately kissing. Their other private phrases, for which Ben did not know the back story, included “discussing things in committee,” and their favorite “I love you . . . I know.”

 

While Lando was equally charismatic it was in a way that was completely different from Han. Lando was by far the most suave and sophisticated person Ben had ever met. He was always immaculately dress, a lengthy cape topping off his polished ensemble. Ben did not know how many capes Lando owned, but he never saw him wear the same one twice. Not particularly into capes, Ben could never picture himself wearing one, but like everything else the older man did Lando pulled it off with style and flair.

 

On race days Han was usually pretty busy, and Ben would not get to see him much before or immediately after the race. Lando, who seemed to go out of his way to time a visit for when Ben would have been otherwise left alone to watch his father race, would take his friend’s son up to one of the suites—not the one designated for families but a high-end luxury suite—so they could watch the race together. The time Lando spent with Ben, however, was not limited to just during the race. Race days with Lando were an all day affair that lasted from the minute Han had to leave to go prep until after he was done with his media responsibilities as the race’s usual victor.

 

Lando would start by ordering both of them some rare vintage of a drink Ben had never heard of that was likely ridiculously expensive. Over the years Ben began to be able to take sips without coughing and actually began to enjoy some of them. Then of course Lando would break out the sabacc deck. After Lando refreshed Ben’s memory of how to play, the bulk of the day would be spent working through innumerable hands, which were paused only long enough to watch Han race. The game would not stop when Han eventually joined them. Usually Ben lost a lot, but there was one time that he had a pure sabacc. He played it cool and cleaned his father and Lando out in one fell swoop. His father had grinned at him with pride and slapped him on the back, and a beaming Lando had said, “Well played, kid.”

 

It was also shockingly easy for Ben to talk to Lando—not due to any skill on Ben’s part, but because Lando was just that good of a conversationalist. And Ben loved to watch Lando talk. He was pretty sure Lando had flirted with many a serving girl in his day, but sensitive to the growing age difference and not wanting to make anyone feel uncomfortable, he instead easily engaging them in conversation with his gentlemanly poise. The man oozed refinement and charm from his pores, and everyone he talked to—server to fellow wealthy businessman—parted with a smile after the pleasure of conversing with a master.

 

Ben learned a lot about talking from watching Lando do it. He could never quite manage to translate it into social situations himself, but in later years of school his ability to effectively steer a committee meeting or negotiate something was due largely to Ben learning to channel his “inner Lando.”

 

 

If it had been up to Ben, he would have left Hosnian Prime and lived with his father permanently. Unfortunately Ben did not have that power of choice regarding his living arrangements. He also did not have total say on how he spent his school vacation either, and his mother often wanted him to spend part of it with Uncle Luke. If it had been just the two of them Ben would not have minded spending time with Luke. As a child Ben had always thought Uncle Luke was cool, and between the two of them existed genuine mutual affection. But it was never just the two of them.

 

Adding to Vader and Palpatine’s efforts to wipe out all information concerning the Jedi of the Old Republic, the Imperials who survived the Battle of Endor had destroyed much of the remaining records of the Old Republic as they retreated. In an effort to piece together history, the New Republic turned to eyewitnesses who had survive the dangerous reign of the Emperor to help fill in the gaps. As a pre-Empire explorer, Lor San Tekka became and invaluable ally to Leia Organa and the rest of the New Republic leadership.

 

Additionally, San Tekka had first hand knowledge of the Jedi of the Old Republic, and vehemently rejected the idea promoted by the Imperials that the Jedi had betrayed the Republic, and had been wiped out only after an attempted coup. Although not Force sensitive themselves, Lor San Tekka and the rest of the Church of the Force had kept up the old religion even under the prohibition of the Empire. The older man was a safeguard of all things related to the Jedi of old, and was Luke’s principal ally in finding Force relics.

 

Although a close ally to both his mother and Uncle Luke, Ben’s relationship with the old explore left much to be desired. For starters, the old man and his followers were the reason Ben never had any time alone with Uncle Luke. San Tekka also never passed up an opportunity to tell Ben how wonderful his family was and that he hoped Ben appreciated them—although his critical and condescending tone conveyed his belief that Ben probably did not. In addition, Luke’s Church of the Force acolytes had taken an immediate dislike to Ben, and the feeling quickly became mutual.

 

Spending time with Uncle Luke and the Church of the Force also cut down on the amount of time Ben could spend with his father, which neither Han nor Ben liked and only fueled his father’s resentment towards Ben’s anticipated Force powers. Ben wished his father would just settle the issue by moving back home and spending more time with him on a regular basis, instead of racing all over the galaxy and teaching other people’s kids how to fly. However, it never seemed to occur to the adults in his life that maybe it was they who needed for once think about what was best for Ben and their family, and prioritize that beyond their individual pursuits.

 

With much of his formative years spent alone, Ben soon began to realized that as he grew into his own person his family did not know him very well. It was also increasingly taken for granted that he uncomplainingly studied whatever his mother wanted him to, and accepted his less than ideal circumstances of having to fly all over the place to visit the adults in his family who were too busy to come to him.

 

 

Not everyone, however, took Ben for granted. To the staff he interacted with on a daily basis—many of whom had known him since he was a toddler when the family moved to Hosnian Prime from Chandrilla—the polite, somewhat shy, delightful boy was a breath of fresh air. While accepting their different societal roles, Ben treated everyone with his usual kindness, thoughtfulness, and generosity. Even among those who enjoyed collecting gossip and swapping horror stories about life serving the elite, no one ever had anything bad to say about Ben Solo.

 

At school Ben’s instructors found him just as refreshing and a pleasure to teach. Long used to dealing with students from privilege, they were often struck by his lack of arrogance—particularly since the combination of his exceptional natural gifts and excellent work ethic resulted in Ben being light-years better at just about everything than his peers. They often remarked to each other that Han and Leia must be wonderful parents to raise such an impressive and humble son. In truth it was actually the opposite. Ben was not arrogant because he genuinely believed none of his talents or accomplishments really mattered, as none of it earned him any additional praise or attention from his parents.

 

He grew up believing he was nothing special . . . something the negative voice in his mind was always quick to emphasize.

 

 

While the non-familial adults in his life adored him, dealing with his peers was an entirely different story. Ben was fine in class when discussing or debating something practical such as politics or history, which was his favorite subject. But ask him to make small talk or engage in basic socializing—particularly when it had even the slightest hint to do with emotions—and forget it.

 

Ben knew “doing talking”—yes that phrase had once actually come out of his mouth—was a learned skill, and he would probably be a lot better if he practiced. But he was often alone at home, and did not have other people with whom he could safely practice conversing on a regular basis. His parents were home so rarely that when they were it was special event, and he did not want to ruin it by saying the wrong thing. Among his peers, he frequently stuck his foot in his mouth and was told he was a jerk. Ben tried to avoid that by rarely speaking at all, but then learned of his new reputation for being aloof and proud. Feeling like he could not win, Ben eventually stopped trying.

 

Ben’s only true friend growing up was Artoo.

 

Uncle Luke had brought his astromech droid with him to dinner one night when Ben was fairly young, and Ben had enjoyed talking to the little droid—R2D2 as he had introduced himself to the boy. The fact that Ben could readily understand the droid’s series of beeps seemed to mean something to the Jedi Master.

 

Artoo was also old friends with his mother’s protocol and translator droid. To Ben, who shared his father’s opinion of Threepio, the only time the golden droid’s nervous prissy voice was not completely annoying was when Artoo and Threepio engaged in their favorite pastime of bickering like an old married couple. With Threepio often away with his mother, he and Artoo were frequently left to keep each other company. Or more accurately, the little droid seemed to understand in a way none of the adults in his life did that it was not good for Ben to be so alone.

 

Ben had been all too happy to have a companion, particularly an astromech that could help him refine both his skills as a pilot and mechanic. Artoo was also in many ways kinder and more humane than the people Ben was around. Ben was comfortable talking to Artoo, who gave him the benefit of the doubt and knew what he meant even when Ben’s words did not come out quite right.

 

 

Flying lessons from his father had started when Ben was seven. They had both deliberately neglected to mention them to his mother—although Ben suspected she had guessed what they were up to and resigned herself. By age ten he could pilot the _Falcon_ solo with the engines in sublight mode. But in later years with his father off racing, Ben had been increasingly left to Artoo’s expert tutelage. Although not generous with their time, his parents were—probably on some level out of guilt—generous with their money, and Ben and Artoo had steadily pushed the limits of his parents’ generosity and credit line with used ships and parts.

 

In all of Ben’s free time from school, Artoo would teach him how to fix up whatever broken down model they had found, and help Ben get it back in the air. They would fly it to the limit until they were bored, which usually meant the next ship they had put back together was ready to fly. The ship they were done with would be sold, with the profits going to towards upgrading their next reconstruction project to a higher ship class. In addition to being interesting and fun, Ben was also immensely grateful to Artoo because progressing in his piloting and ship maintenance skills was the best way to receive notice and praise from his father.

 

Whether on Honsian Prime or off planet, Uncle Luke was usually busy being Luke Skywalker, and Ben did not get to see him much particularly when his parents were not home. Sensing Ben’s was the greater need, Artoo began to increasingly decline Luke’s request to join him on trips off world. Since Luke had never had Artoo’s memory wiped, the droid had by that time turned the computer on Luke’s X-wing into a droid counterpart, and it would not talk to another droid or maintenance computer. As a result, when Artoo stayed behind the fighter had to stay too. Since it was peacetime and other ships had room for his acolytes and more amenities than an X-wing, Luke had made other transportation arrangements without argument.

 

 

And there the X-wing would sit while Luke was off world. Off to the side and out of the way in one of the storage hangers at the spaceport . . .

 

 

The first time Ben flew Uncle Luke’s X-wing, he had not really planned to. Finished working on their latest project for the day, he and Artoo had begun to walk home but somehow found themselves in the nearby hanger . . . standing by the ship. Artoo had loaded himself in and beeped an invitation, and that had been all the encouragement Ben had needed to leap into the cockpit. Artoo got them official clearance to fly, and while the few ground crew in the vicinity had smiled knowingly, they were well aware Artoo could fly the X-wing by himself if need be, and had given the joyriders a pass.

 

Uncle Luke was practically family, and as such probably would not have minded letting Ben fly his ship. But the Jedi Master was a bit of stickler for rules, and would have insisted on getting permission from his parents. If it had just been a matter of asking his father, Ben would have had less qualms. But Uncle Luke would have insisted on also running it past his mother, who would not have wanted her fourteen-year-old flying a starfighter. So Ben took a page out of his father’s book and did not bother telling anyone.

 

Truth be told, Ben felt safer in the X-wing than he had in some of his other ships, knowing the starfighter was in good working condition and Artoo could easily bail him out of any jam into which he might get himself. With some of their early projects there had been some close shaves, something his father had found hilarious and which Ben had carefully not mentioned to his mother.

 

It was his first time flying a real starfighter, and Ben was instantly hooked.

 

His favorite ship in the whole galaxy was the _Falcon_. Someday he hoped to inherit it from his father. But while his father lived, Han Solo’s most prized possession would stay with him. And Ben was happy in his confidence that no mater what crazy stunt Han pulled, the legendary Solo Luck would keep his father alive for a very long time. Ben, therefore, was content to fly the _Falcon_ whenever his father had time to take him.

 

In the meantime his dream ship became an X-wing, and he flew Uncle Luke’s every chance he got. Artoo told him that some of the newer ships were painted with black sensor-scattering paint, although that model was a bit high maintenance—whatever that meant.

 

A black X-wing.

 

That was hands down the coolest ship Ben had ever heard of, and he promised himself one day he would fly one. He had wanted to be a pilot like his father since childhood. Now he wanted to be a fighter pilot.

 

Luke’s X-wing was also the first ship since the _Falcon_ that Ben had had access to with a hyperdrive. Not as reckless has he sometimes pretended to be, his father had drawn the line in Ben’s underage flying lessons that hyperspace jumps into deep space was something Ben would have to wait for until he was older. By the time they had access to the X-wing, Artoo decided Ben was old enough.

 

As Ben also discovered, Artoo had quite a rogue streak, particularly for a droid. Sharing Ben’s opinion on Luke’s likely reaction to their flying lessons, Artoo routinely deleted the evidence of their latest jaunt from the both the X-wing and spaceport computers.

 

 

Ben was at the spaceport so much that the ground crew jokingly told him he was “another Poe Dameron.” Ben learned that Poe was one of the top X-wing fighter pilots in the New Republic Defense Fleet, and could reportedly fly anything. Ben hoped to meet him someday. It would be great to have someone else to talk to about ships and flying. He wondered if Poe would think it was weird that he secretly wanted to fly a TIE fighter just once to see what it was like . . . although Ben had feeling his mother would not like that.

 

In Luke’s borrowed X-wing, Artoo took Ben to different places to develop his piloting skills. Their most memorable trip was the time Artoo had Ben practice his combat skills at the edge of an asteroid field. The lesson had nearly gone very badly, and required Artoo to erase a repairs report in addition to his usual data scrub. Most of their flights, however, were less eventful, and with the assistance of what Ben later understood to be his Force enhanced combat sense heightening his reflexes, Artoo gradually built him and his skills up into being an outstanding fighter pilot.

 

A maintenance crewer once light heartedly asked Artoo how Ben was doing. “An ace, huh,” the crewer replied to Artoo’s series of beeps, and exchanged amused looks with his fellow groundsmen. All of them believed the little droid was exaggerating, and no seventeen-year-old deserved such a distinction. Ben, however, who knew that Artoo did not exaggerate and furthermore had flow with Luke and some of the best pilots around during the war, felt the full weight of the astromech’s compliment. No matter what insecurities and inadequacies Ben felt about himself in literally every other aspect of his life, thanks to Artoo he always had confidence in his immense piloting skills.

 

 

As high school ended and his university studies began, Ben chose to continue living at home rather than deal with the extra security that came with someone of his rank living on campus with his peers. While it kept him closer to the spaceport, staying home only increased Ben’s social isolation, and kept him shy and socially withdrawn.

 

Ben found that different parts of himself were starting to severely outpace each other developmentally, resulting in him feeling increasingly off balance and plagued by insecurities and self doubt. While his piloting skills gave him an anchor, Ben still did not appreciate just how good he was, and his potential to succeed his father as the best pilot in the galaxy. His talent and potential in governmental leadership also did not register. Ben continued to considered himself of little worth, something the neglect of his family and the increasingly loud, harsh and critical voice in his head only steadily fueled.

 

Dealing with the opposite sex was yet another task in life Ben felt ill equipped to tackle. Listening to the wannabe flyboys among his classmates boast of their piloting prowess to impress girls, Ben often smiled to himself, knowing he could fly circles around them and could—and in some cases one day would—blow them out of the sky. While Ben had the far superior piloting skills, however, others had all the appearance of it. When it came to talking to and attracting women, Ben knew the wannabe aces had him completely beat.

 

Ben had not bothered to approach a girl in years, learning early in adolescence that girls expected him to be his charming father, and found Ben himself a great disappointment. He also carefully avoided the cadre of increasingly beautiful women who really did not care what came out of his mouth, and eyed him solely as a prestigious conquest because of his family’s high status. Ben knew that indulging in the offers of any of the women who threw themselves at him with increasing frequency would be a flash pan counterfeit of what he really wanted. In prudence beyond his years, he furthermore knew such choices would open him up to the kind of consequences and trouble he had no interest in inviting into his life for a myriad of reasons—starting with his mother would kill him.

 

What exactly it was he was looking for was something he could not articulate beyond that he would—and eventually did—know it when he saw it. As it was no one really caught his eye for whom it was worth risking looking foolish or who superseded a black X-wing in his dreams. At a bare minimum Ben was only open to getting involved with someone who was interested in him for his own sake. Finding none among the uppity Hosnian Prime girls that possessed that quality, Ben shelved his desire for love—which his peers seemed to have far less difficulty finding—along with the rest of his unmet emotional needs, and stayed unattached.

 

Flying Luke’s X-wing was the extent of Ben’s adolescent rebellion. Unlike other senators’ and celebrities’ children, he did not run wild with exploits that ended up all over the holonet—although with the profound lack of supervision his parents provided he easily could have. Furthermore, while his parents did not appreciate or acknowledge it, Ben deliberately chose to be a very good kid and dutiful son, and he never did anything that could possibly embarrass or reflected poorly on their family.

 

Unconsciously Ben told himself if he was good enough his parents would spend more time with him . . . although it never ending up working out that way.

 

Over the years little changed in Ben’s routine. He went to school, and diligently studying all the government and leadership training his mother wanted him to, which he secretly hoped he would never have to use. After school Ben listened to whatever messages his parents had left for him and sent ones back, before blasting through his homework. Whatever time remained was spent either working on a ship or flying with Artoo. Not perfect without his parents around, life had still been manageable.

 

 

And then his Force powers woke up.

 

 

\--------------------------------

 

 

As Ben entered his twenties, to all outward appearances he was doing quite well.

 

Finally at the end of the graduate level political science and governmental leadership training his mother had insisted on after his normal university studies, he had been looking forward to doing something else . . . until his mother set up an internship for him in the Senate.

 

For years Ben had been planning to tell her that this was it and he was going to be a fighter pilot, but the right time had never presented itself. Every time she was home she was usually distracted with something else, and he did not want to drop that bomb on her via holonet or spoil the precious time when he actually had her attention. Ben knew, however, that for his own sanity he could not put off the conversation much longer.

 

It was clear to his instructors that Ben had inherited much of his mother’s talents. He possessed both a creative and practical approach to government, and the capacity to provide stable leadership. Adding to his sharp mind his genuinely not caring about his political image or advancing his career beyond sitting in the cockpit of a starfighter, Ben had also began to catch the attention of the political elite. He was considered a rising star on track for an extremely high position in the New Republic leadership. Many actually had Ben earmarked as a future New Republic Chancellor—or whatever they ended up calling the position to distance it for Palpatine.

 

This was idea that Ben privately found horrifying when he learned of it. To his mind, Chancellor of the New Republic seemed like the worst job he could possibly imagine. Could he do it? Sure he could do it. All the education and training he had endured to please his mother had more than prepared him. Did he want to? Absolutely not. Ben knew that being head of the intergalactic government would make him completely miserable, and he felt safe in his conviction that ruling the galaxy was something he would _never_ want to do.

 

 

Socially things began changing for him as well. As he came into contact with more people from other planets, Ben’s circle of acquaintances began to include individuals who were both capable of actually being his friend and interested in getting to know him better. Additionally, as Ben’s previously lanky frame began to fill out he began to increasingly turn heads in his own right. With his combination of looks, high social status, and reputation for good character Ben’s eligibility began to steadily skyrocket.

 

 

Ben, however, was completely oblivious to all of this. He had other things to worry about . . . like holding it together.

 

 

Something inside of him that had always been there was waking up. He guessed it had to do with his long expected Force powers, but he did not know what to do with it or how to control it, and he was afraid. What frightened him even more was that the darkness he felt inside of him also seemed to no long be dormant . . . and the critical voice fueling his insecurities also dramatically kicked up a notch.

 

Ben began to realize the voice was not his—that there was _someone else inside his mind_.

 

Although everyone but Artoo bought his mask of composure, emotionally and mentally he felt himself spinning out of control. Afraid of how his parents might react, Ben somehow managed to suppress and hide it all for several years until the event that rocked him to the core made that completely impossible.

 

 

 

With his internship starting soon, Ben and Artoo were traveling back to Hosnian Prime after another miserable trip to visit Uncle Luke and his followers. Knowing he really needed a teacher, Ben had hoped to get Uncle Luke alone to finally tell him about what had been happening and get his help—but as usual he did not get the chance.

 

Ben and Artoo had arrived to find Lor San Tekka had discovered a new Force relic that put the group a major step closer to finding the first Jedi Temple, and that was completely absorbing all of Luke’s and everyone else’s attention. Ben did not really care about the location of first Jedi Temple, and wished he was with his father.

 

 

One day of course Ben would care . . . for a very different reason.

 

 

Uncle Luke had been sorry to see Ben go at such an exciting time, but knew better than to mess with Leia’s plans. He waved to Ben as his X-wing lifted off and climbed towards deep space, following the decade long arrangement of “Artoo flying Ben out” in Luke’s X-wing since no one had time to come pick him up or take him home. Han had rolled his eyes at that idea, understanding a year later than was actually true that Ben could fly himself.

 

The long flight in what Ben was starting to unconsciously consider his X-wing was usually the only part of a trip to visit Uncle Luke that Ben really enjoyed . . . but not this time. Dropping out of hyperspace to do a nav check, Ben had tapped into the holonet to see if his parents had left him any messages. It was then that a headline scrolled across the newsfeed on his screen that changed his life forever.

 

 

“Darth Vader revealed as Senator Leia Organa’s father.”

 

 

It was like a bomb went off inside the cockpit and in Ben’s heart. He quickly scanned the article, and then went to other news sources in the hope it was an idle report of a ridiculous smear campaign by his mother’s political enemies. Whatever it was it was everywhere. His nav check complete, Ben quickly shot the X-wing back into hyperspace and hurtling towards home, frustrated that he still had many more hours of flight time remaining for his thoughts to run wild with limited information.

 

 

_It wasn’t true. It couldn’t be._

 

 

Ben refused to believe it if for no other reason than he did not want to believe his family would have kept him in the dark about something so important—and left him to be so devastatingly blindsided.

 

All Ben had ever heard about Darth Vader in school was the Sith Lord was one of the most hated men the galaxy had ever seen. He had ruthlessly slaughtered the noble Jedi, and overseen the enslavement and subjugation of all the known star systems for the Empire. Vader had brutally imposed the Emperor’s will with an iron fist, his unimaginably strong Force powers, and his legendary and lethal temper.

 

Ben had always hated Vader, especially for what he had done to his much beloved mother . . . torturing her and making her watch the destruction of her home planet. And if the report was true—although Ben held out hope that it was all a lie—Vader had done all of that to his own _daughter_.

 

 

If it was true then Ben himself was the grandson of Vader.

 

 

With that thought that was too horrible for words buzzing through his mind, Ben finally arrived back on Hosnian Prime just as he felt he could not take one more minute of being stuck in hyperspace and out of touch with what was going on.

 

The fall out that met him once he disembarked, however, made Ben wish that he was still enroute.

 

The bombshell that his grandfather had been Darth Vader had quickly moved his family from being famous to infamous. While Ben had not really noticed the respect and admiration he was slowly earning, he could hardly miss the abrupt change to being treated with distrust and suspicion. Suddenly everyone was looking at him differently. Vader had been a monster, and people were looking at Ben like he was one too.

 

By the time Ben got home he found that his mother was off world dealing with some crisis, but she had left him a message. He quickly opened it with hope, but as he watched it his heart sank. The admission it contained was heartfelt and completely inadequate. It reeked of damage control and a desire to assuage her own guilt rather than be of any real help to her son—at that point what could she really say.

 

After listening to it, however, Ben resigned himself to the truth . . . Darth Vader was his grandfather.

 

The only one around to yell at was Artoo, and Ben could not help but do so. “Did you know about this?” he asked the droid accusingly. Artoo’s only reply was a mournful beep, and Ben let it drop. It really did not matter if Artoo had known or not. This one was squarely on his parents.

 

Maybe they thought they would just put off telling him until he was older—or they were less busy—but to Ben it felt like they were hoping and planning for him to never find out about this at all. And no matter how Ben knew they would try to justify themselves or how Ben tried to spin it in his mind to lessen the blow, the fact remained that his parents had kept all this from him and let him find out about it the worst possible way.

 

 

Of all the things they had done to him through their neglect over the years, this was by far the worst, and Ben did not know how he was _ever_ going to forgive them.

 

 

Luke Skywalker the known Son of Vader, who apparently as his mother’s _twin brother_ and really was Ben’s uncle Luke, came out with a statement reiterating what he had told Ben as a child: that in the end Vader was redeemed. Even to Ben’s ears that longed to hear something different, Luke sounded like a brother trying to minimize the damage to his twin sister’s political career. And all Ben had for evidence of Vader’s supposed redemption was the word a man who had broken Ben’s trust by lying to him his whole life.

 

Although his mother was not there, her political career and his by association was in a complete tailspin. His internship was gone. Not sure what he was supposed to do and wanting to be away from people and their hostile looks as much as possible, Ben spent a lot of time working on X-wing maintenance with Artoo.

 

 

A reoccurring nightmare also began to plague his sleep, full of terrifying images of destruction, pain, and death. And it always ended the same way: the cave.

 

Ben found himself in an earthy cavern full of vines, snakes, and lizards. The damp misty air chilled him to the bone with an indescribable cold. The dimly lit chamber reverberated with unsettling sounds that filled him with dread. Then out of a darker part of the cave Ben heard the sound of heavy footsteps, then mechanical breathing, and to his horror he saw Darth Vader striding towards him out of the shadows. Ben screamed and turned to flee, desperately trying to reach the opening above him by climbing the earthy walls and only ending up with fists full of dirt. He was still screaming when he woke up. Artoo tried to comfort him, but he was not able to fall back asleep.

 

And that is how it went night after night as Ben waited to see what would become of his life.

 

 

His parents knew they had really screwed up this time. So after his mother was done saving the New Republic from some imminent threat and his father had saved her, and after she had resigned from the Senate and founded the Resistance, both his parents had made time to come home. To Ben’s mind their apologies had not lasted nearly long enough before they switched gears to figuring out what they were going to do with him.

 

In founding the Resistance Leia Organa had become a political pariah. Ben wondered if it had even crossed his mother’s mind that her actions were permanently killing his political career too.

 

Probably not.

 

 

With his unwanted political career over before it had begun, Ben had acquired new insight into why he had uncomplainingly studied and done whatever his mother wanted him to all these years, and why he had never gotten around to telling her he was going to be a starfighter pilot. Ben had gone along with his mother’s political aspirations for him unconsciously knowing that the end game was getting to work along side her in the Senate—to finally spend the time with her that he craved so badly.

 

And just as the prize of her increased presence in his life that he had worked towards for years and years was finally about to be in his grasp, she had snatched it away by blowing up both of their careers without a second thought.

 

As angry and betrayed as he felt, Ben tried to stay levelheaded. What he really wanted and needed, particularly as he was mentally spinning out of control, was to spend more time around his mother. With his father he felt safe, but his mother had a calming, stabilizing effect on him that no one else had. His goal was still attainable, Ben realized. All he had to do was follow her and join the Resistance. Actually this would work out even better. Ben could be around his mother and be a starfighter pilot—he might even get to fly a black X-wing! For one shining moment Ben Solo was all about the Resistance.

 

That moment was brief.

 

The newly minted General Leia Organa had not see before her the young ace just coming into his prime, who would automatically be the best starfighter pilot in the Resistance—all she saw was her little boy. She declared Ben was too young to join the Resistance, and that he would be staying out of danger and away from the fighting, preferably at home where it was safe.

 

Ben knew this was absolutely ridiculous, well aware his mother had been far younger than he was when she had joined the original Rebel Alliance. No, what his mother really wanted was to permanently keep him away from any and all conflict in the galaxy, even if it meant keeping him away from her too. With that insight Ben knew he would never be old enough to join the Resistance—a new rival for his mother’s attention to which he was destined to lose badly, and which he quickly came to hate.

 

 

It was then that Ben had truly lost it.

 

 

But before he could verbally lay into his parent with everything they had had coming for years, Ben’s careful and rigid control over his growing force powers abruptly evaporated. Three vases exploded into thousands of pieces and there was suddenly a huge crack in one of the walls. For a moment all three of them stood in stunned silence surveying the damage. When his gaze finally met those of his parents Ben was horrified to see fear in their eyes. He turned and fled from their penthouse apartment, ignoring his parent as they called after him.

 

 

Artoo found him in the cockpit of Luke’s X-wing with tears streaming down his face. As soon as the droid had loaded himself aboard, Ben had taken off and flown straight into the privacy and darkness of space. It was there that he began to sob uncontrollably, and Artoo’s consoling beeps did little to comfort him. Eventually his sobs subsided, not because he felt any better, but because he simply had no more tears to shed.

 

 

In that moment Ben seriously thought about running away.

 

 

Although he was technically old enough to leave home, Ben knew he was in no way ready to make his own way in the galaxy, and even if he had someplace to go he would not be heading towards somewhere but fleeing from what he left behind. Ben did not know how long he had been out there or how long he would have remained, but the voice in his mind had eventually suggested a possible destination to which he could run, which scared Ben into going home.

 

 

Ben arrived home to find his parents fighting. They were in their bedroom with the door closed but their voices were so loud he could still hear everything they were saying. It was not their usual arguing that Ben remembered from his childhood, which ended with them taking off by themselves in the _Falcon_ for a few hours and when they came home everything was fine.

 

This was a real fight . . . and it was about him.

 

Ben slunk back to his bedroom with Artoo, and locked the door behind him. He could still hear his parents shouting as he covered his ears with a pillow and cried himself to sleep.

 

He woke the next morning to find his parents were still fighting. And over the next two weeks they continued to fight . . . a lot. No matter how busy his mother was with the Resistance or how many things his father had waiting for him in his life on the road, his parents were carving out time so they could argue about his powers.

 

Ben’s Force sensitivity—he—was now nothing but a source of conflict in his family. “Too much Vader in him,” was his father’s often-used phrase behind closed doors where his parents thought he could not hear them.

 

 

With the stable ground of his life disintegrating under his feet, Ben found that his Force powers—which had already grow well beyond what should have been his capacity to fully suppress them before all this happened—were now exploding out of control under such high stress.

 

The situation only escalated as the tension mounted. The more his parents fought the more upset and scared Ben became . . . and the more things broke and the more cracks appeared in the walls without Ben meaning for them too. Everyone, including Ben began to worry he was going to bring the whole building down.

 

Usually it was his parent who did the leaving, while Ben stayed home with a modicum of stability. But his parents were becoming afraid of him and his growing powers. Even his father, which should have been the biggest warning. They were talking about sending him away.

 

In a last ditch effort to get his mother to understand how badly he needed to be around her right now, Ben finally told her about the voice in his mind. Her alarmed reaction was everything he had been afraid of when he had not previously told her.

 

Ben awoke the next morning to learn that was the day his parents had decided that he and his powers were too dangerous for them to handle—that he was too dangerous to be part of their family anymore. The boy with “too much Vader in him” found himself abruptly packed off to his uncle’s hastily set up Jedi training temple.

 

His parents brought him outside to tell him, and the large crack that had formed in the ground at Ben’s feet was an indication that that had been a good idea. His father had offered to fly him in _Falcon_. In anger Ben had refused, and felt his father’s sense of relief like a physical blow.

 

Ben had not gone back into the apartment, which he was still afraid he might actually destroy. With literally nothing but the clothes on his back and without saying good-bye to his parents, Ben set off towards the spaceport. Artoo had apparently seen this coming that morning, and was already waiting for him in the prepped X-wing. Ben jumped in and shot them off through the atmosphere toward the darkness of space.

 

 

Before jumping to hyperspace, Ben turned the X-wing back to take one last lingering look at the planet below. Even then he had had a premonition that he would never be going home again.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With Ben is Star Wars Darcy, someone sagely pointed out this makes Luke Lady Catherine, which has led to some fairly epic tumblr posts:
> 
> https://lordsofthesithpodcast.tumblr.com/post/183084131534/roxannepolice-monsterleadmehome
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks so much for reading!
> 
>  
> 
> Acknowledgment of works of commentary that contributed ideas significantly included in this chapter:
> 
> SWC: Kylo Ren and the Portrayal of Masculinity in Star Wars  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k5nGoYklHu8
> 
> LOTS Podcast: Psychology of the Characterization: Kylo Ren  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DsdViE8mse4
> 
> LOTS Podcast: Why Kylo is the Protagonist of The Last Jedi  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=381i4H7nA0M&t=2014s
> 
>  
> 
> Artwork:  
> Bloodline Cover Art: https://www.yahoo.com/entertainment/princess-leias-force-awakens-backstory-205818610.htmlChapter 6


	6. Master of the Knights of Ren

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the Jedi training temple Luke's non-existent parenting skills do not mesh well with Ben's belated adolescent rebellion, and end with the tragedy of THAT night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a fairly sad chapter, and I think the most tragic aspect of Ben Solo's fall to the dark side is it is the result of what I believe is mainly a massive misunderstanding between him and his family.

 

 

 

**Chapter 6: Master of the Knights of Ren**

 

 

Yavin 4 was the fourth moon of the gas giant Yavin, and from an aerial view of landmasses covered in dense jungle and rain forests it did not appear to be particularly noteworthy. However, as a former Rebel Alliance base, and most importantly as the site of the Battle of Yavin—the battle where Luke Skywalker and a small band of Rebel fighters had done the impossible and blown up the Empire’s mighty Death Star superweapon to liberate the galaxy from its reign of terror—Yavin 4 was actually one of the most famous planets in the galaxy.

 

Ben vaguely remembered learning in school it had also been home to the ancient Massassi race, who before being enslaved and eventually wiped out by the Sith a few thousand years ago, had built the temple the Rebels had used as a base. More recently after the end of the Galactic Civil War a colony had been established nearby. Poe Dameron had grown up on Yavin 4, although by that point he was flying an X-wing for the New Republic Defense Fleet. Still hoping to meet the idolized older pilot someday, Ben admittedly knew a bit too much about Poe Dameron.

 

Yavin 4 was also home to the shoot of some Force sensitive tree, which Ben did not understand or particularly care about, but which likely had something to do with his uncle selecting the moon as the site of the new Jedi training temple.

 

Under different circumstances Ben would have found a visit to Yavin 4 very interesting—not only given its galactic importance, but more specifically because of its significance in regard to his family. Still reeling from his parents throwing him away like toxic garbage, however, Ben was not in an appreciative mood or state of mind.

 

As he hurtled through hyperspace towards the moon, Ben toyed with the idea of going someplace other than to his uncle, whom he was still just as mad at as his parents for not telling him about Vader or the true nature of their relationship. But that would not solve his problem of not being able to control his Force powers.

 

_Maybe if he could control them his parents would let him come home._

 

From the look on their faces as they parted . . . probably not. If that had been an option his parents would have said so and maybe even had Luke come to Hosnian Prime to help Ben not destroy their family’s home. Ben’s internal debate ended only when the voice in his mind again offered an alternative destination.

 

After that Ben flew straight to the training temple.

 

 

 

When Ben reached Yavin 4, Luke greeted his nephew warmly. Close to his goal of finding the first Jedi Temple, Luke had still dropped his quest and quickly set up a school to train the next generation of Jedi when a desperate Leia had called and told him they needed his help with Ben immediately.

 

Ben, who did not want to be there, or anywhere around Luke for that matter, was not predisposed to share in his parents’ gratitude. The day Ben had found out that Luke was really his uncle—that instead of being more to Ben than he had to be by obligation of blood ties, that all these years the Jedi Master had instead been less—was the last day Ben had called him Uncle Luke. The fact that Luke offered him no apology or explanation, but simply glossed over the fact he had been lying to his nephew his entire life—and like Han and Leia had left Ben to be blindsided by his lineage—did not help the situation in the slightest.

 

Furthermore, ignorant of the havoc Ben had unintentionally wreaked on his home and the terrified look in his parent’s eyes, Luke thought the fact that Ben’s powers were finally manifesting was fantastic. In what would become a reoccurring theme over the next year, Luke’s overly cheerful disposition and enthusiasm grated on Ben’s darkening mood, as it demonstrated Luke’s insensitivity to how traumatizing Ben’s powers already were to him.

 

Still recoiling from being abruptly kicked out of his home and finding that his uncle, with whom he was already extremely angry, was also infuriatingly irritating, Ben had in spite of himself still held out hope. His uncle was a Jedi Master. Ben tried to calm himself by recalling the stories from his childhood of his uncle’s heroic exploits—back when he thought Luke was cool.

 

Ben continued to repeatedly remind himself that Luke could teach him how to control his powers . . . and then maybe then his parent would let him back into their family. Perhaps Luke could also help Ben cross that elusive threshold into manhood for which his father never seemed to have time. Maybe his uncle could protect him from the evil presence that was stalking him and the cruel voice inside his mind.

 

 

Ben found that like his father, Jedi Master Luke Skywalker was destined to disappoint him . . . and then some.

 

 

In his desperate attempt to look on the bright side Ben also reminded himself there would be other students with the same abilities, peers who might become the friends he craved. It did not take long for him to be disillusioned of that hope too.

 

It soon became apparent that the other students had been selected from an unvetted list of potential Force users that his uncle had been compiling over the years. Invitations were extended based on potential strength with the Force alone, with little regard to character. While his uncle was at least superficially revered to down right idol worshiped by the other potential Jedi, Ben soon found that when it came to himself most of the other students fell into one of two groups: those who were openly jealous and hostile to his face, and those who on the surface held him on a pedestal in superficial adulation but were jealous behind his back.

 

On top of an already bad situation, Lor San Tekka and the Church of the Force, had also taken up residence on Yavin 4. Believing there could be no balance in the Force without the Jedi, they had come to help Luke set up the training temple and take care of everyone’s day to day needs so Luke could focus on training the long awaited new generation of Jedi.

 

Luke’s acolytes, who to their bitter disappointment were not Force sensitive, were even more jealous of Ben than the majority of the other students. They quickly found ways to subtly take out their animosity towards him behind his uncle’s back, and Ben found he always got the worst portion of food, rarely had clean clothes, and had to endure a constant barrage of nasty comments from them on a daily basis.

 

 

Luke was not very detail oriented, and preferring to focus on the big picture frequently only seemed to have one foot in the present. Ben had always found him even more inadequate than his parents in guiding him or providing for his emotional needs or wellbeing, and the current situation was no different—except now Ben’s time under Luke’s incompetent care was no longer limited to a few weeks at a time but would instead be lasting indefinitely.

 

Beyond that was a far more wounding blow. Ben eventually had to accept that the training temple had been hastily thrown together without the much forethought in key areas for the simple reason that his mother and father had needed some place to quickly dump him.

 

Busy with their own pursuits, neither of his parents had checked up on him directly. Nothing, Ben knew, could consume his mother’s attention like a new cause. His father, who had never wanted Ben to become a Jedi in the first place, certainly was not swinging by. Either blindly trusting in his uncle’s non-existent caretaking skills or deliberately distancing themselves from their dangerous son, neither of them had made any effort to leave even so much as a message for Ben. Even if his parents had asked after him, Ben knew Luke would likely tell them their son was doing great.

 

 

Although forced to on some level accept his uncle’s shortcomings, this did not stop Ben from lamenting his uncle’s lack of practical considerations. Ben had only learned about the glorious Jedi of the Old Republic in pretty broad strokes at school, but he did recall that Jedi training had quickly progressed to a model of one on one mentorship. While their personalities by that point naturally clashed fairly badly, Ben still seriously wished he could have had that with his uncle, and knew things would have been a lot better that way. But his uncle was always a step ahead of himself, and Jedi Master Luke Skywalker was taking this opportunity to realize his dream of launching the New Jedi Order.

 

Even with the current group training setup, however, Ben’s powers still got all of his uncle’s attention. Master Skywalker had run them all through the basics of concentrating and reaching out to let the Force flow through them. Ben’s Force abilities had grown exponentially and he quickly outpaced the other students. As good as his piloting skills were that made it likely he would succeed his father as best pilot in the galaxy, and possessing political talents that lead some to have him pegged for the top job in the intergalactic government some day, when it came to his strength with the Force Ben was truly a prodigy.

 

All of Luke’s attention made his devotees even more deeply resentful of Ben. Ben himself understood since even though Master Skywalker lavished his star Padawan’s Force abilities with attention, Ben himself got none—his uncle did not seem to even understand there was a difference.

 

While his powers were flourishing, therefore, Ben himself was not.

 

As with many things in his life, just because Ben was good at something did not mean that he liked it. Relieved to not have his powers be on the verge of exploding out of his control, Ben was also annoyed. Luke could have taught him how to control his powers enough to not bring his apartment building down in about five minutes—maybe even coached him over via holonet—instead of dragging him all the way out to Yavin 4.

 

Ben hated training and deliberately did not try very hard, but ironically still managed to rapidly progress in his skills lightyears ahead of Luke’s other students. Under less toxic circumstance Ben could have found meaning in helping them, but they did not want to learn anything from him and he had no interest in being their teacher.

 

The young Jedi, moreover, did not consider his unasked for Force abilities to be a gift, and frequently wished he could give them to one of the other people around the training temple who desperately wanted them, or just get rid of them in some way.

 

 

To worsen the already dismal situation even further, it was at his uncle’s training temple that Ben learned about the Jedi Code and what else what he now considered to be his Force-curse was taking away from him. Apparently it was a good thing he had not previously fallen in love, because yet another thing his parents and uncle had failed to mention to him was as a future Jedi he would not have been allow to marry anyway. He had grown up literally starved of connections with other people, and according to the Jedi Code against interpersonal attachments that level of soul sucking depravation was evidently going to be more or less a permanent state.

 

Ben had once pulled his uncle aside—son of Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker—and as tactfully as possible inquired exactly how he was supposed to reconcile their family lineage with the Jedi Code. Ben was by that point not in the least bit surprised that his uncle did not have a good answer for him, and seemed to have neatly compartmentalized that trivial detail and his Jedi Order revival plans into two different parts of his brain that did not talk to each other. Not appreciating being confronted with the reality of an inconvenient truth, his uncle had gotten defensive and told Ben to just drop it and join him in obediently following the Code.

 

 

If Ben had to choose between the no longer available option of being Chancellor of the New Republic or life as a Jedi, he was ready to admit feeling a deep nostalgia for previously disliked politics. Furthermore, the presence of Luke’s X-wing at the training temple was a constant source of temptation, and Ben fantasized about taking off with Artoo to enlist in the New Republic Defense Fleet. However, that was not a real option anymore either, as no matter how good a pilot he was no one would want Vaderspawn as a comrade in arms to die with in six years when Starkiller destroyed the Honsian sector.

 

Ben’s more fervent wish was still that his mother would remember he was her son too and not just a liability as Darth Vader’s grandson—and that she would finally let him join the Resistance and help her fight the First Order.   If that ever became a real possibility, Ben was prepared to forgive the group his deep grievance and fly even a B-wing or a bulk freighter for the cause . . . if only someone would get him away from the New Jedi Order.

 

In the end, Ben as usual did as he was told and stayed on Yavin 4.

 

In hindsight Ben was not sure why he thought his strategy would work this time when it had never worked throughout his entire life—other than it was the only course of action that fit his personality and values. But Ben clung to the hope that if he continued to survive his uncle’s Jedi training and was a dutiful obedient son, that some day his parents would take him back.

 

 

Ben’s love for his family only made his relationship with his much despised Force powers more complicated. Recent and current events had reinforced in Ben’s mind the message he had gotten loud and clear from his parents and uncle: his personal qualities, his good choices, Ben himself did not matter. His inherited strength with the Force—which had wrecked his own plans for his future, destroyed his relationship with his parents, would eventually end their marriage, and which had ruined his family and his life—was the only thing about Ben that was special.

 

Falling back on his tried and true dysfunctional coping mechanism, Ben stuffed his growing conflict and continued to say nothing, and life at the training temple continued on predictably. Jedi Master Luke Skywalker was enthralled with Ben’s powers and strength with the Force. The Church of the Force acolytes and the other students were jealous.

 

Ben himself, whose conviction was growing daily that he was going to be the most uncommitted and conflicted Jedi Knight that had every lived, was absolutely _miserable._

 

 

\--------------------------------

 

Sinking further into jaded disillusionment, Ben had no desire to hang around the superficial kiss-ups who hero-worshiped his uncle and resented him for his superior Force abilities. When he was not training he stayed in his small hut with Artoo.

 

In his growing depression and resentment, however, Ben became ripe for recruitment to the other option for socialization that existed at the training temple of the New Jedi Order . . .

 

 

The Knights.

 

 

They were not set on being Jedi Knights. What kind of knights they would become would depend greatly on their own self-interest. In spite of all being quite talented Force users, they were content to train unobtrusively in the background while the other student jockeyed to get as close as possible to Luke.

 

The Knights were not on the dark side per say. They did, however, share in Ben’s rapidly plummeting respect for Luke’s authority. At the same time they kept evidence of this, along with their brash arrogance, well hidden behind masks of politeness that belied their true natures and double lives.

 

Sniper, Monk, Heavy, Amory, and Rogue.

 

They all had other given names of course. But just as Ben Solo slowly gave way to Kylo Ren, their birth names had ceased to be their relevant ones long before they all joined the First Order.

 

In maintaining his untarnished, if unappreciated by his parents, squeaky-clean reputation for over a decade, Ben could smell trouble among his peers a mile away and had initially kept his distance. His resolve, however, began to erode as the voice in his mind repeatedly pointed out _“Why bother anymore? What’s the point? Being good didn’t stop your parents from abandoning you.”_ Ben found his new nihilistic worldview steadily eclipsing his cautious vigilance until one day it was completely gone.

 

Late one night Rogue approached Ben’s hut and invited him to hang out. The enigmatic Force user had chosen his moment well. After enduring a day where his uncle’s acolytes had been particularly nasty to him behind the Jedi Master’s back, Ben accepted the first of what became nightly invitations.

 

 

Although Ben initially engaged in the bare minimum of experimentation required for inclusion in the group, the Knights were not a good influence on either each other or him. Heavy and Armory had an endless supply of alcohol they managed to get from somewhere. Rouge also had a stock of what were supposed to be Force power enhancing psychedelics he had brought with him from wherever he was prior to coming to the training temple. Ben only tried Rouge’s drugs once, finding they increased the evil presence stalking him’s access to his mind. He did, however, drink quite heavily.

 

Ben found himself pretending to be a dutiful Padawan by day with nights filled with drunken lightsaber duels with the other Knights. He was not sure anymore for which group he was wearing a mask to hide his true self.

 

 

By virtue of his superior Force powers, Ben was made de facto head of the Knights. Rouge, however, was the neck, and would frequently turn the group in directions Ben would not have otherwise chosen.

 

There had always been something a little off about Rogue—nothing glaringly obvious, but definitely _off_. And it was always Rogue’s idea when the Knights did anything weird—like sealing their brotherhood with a blood pact.

 

It was a ritual that crossed a line that even in his foggy disillusionment filled Ben with apprehension. The Jedi Code having already robbed him of the possibility of normal healthy intimacy with another person and to a large extent even authentic friendship, however, Ben in his state of emotional starvation took what was available. He slashed his forearm open and let his “mighty Skywalker blood” that his uncle was so in love with mingle with each of the other Knights in turn as they bonded in the Force.

 

Connected in a cultish intimacy, each of his brother Knights lay open before Ben like a book he did not want to read. Ben, himself quickly set up mental barriers to keep hidden his fears and insecurities . . . and the deeper secret that at his core Ben was nothing like them. Some day he would fully unmask for Rey and let her see his true self, but from the Knights he kept knowledge of his remaining goodness safely hidden away.

 

Rogue too had secrets, and either like Ben had figured out how to set up a mental barrier himself . . . or someone else had taught him.

 

 

The whole situation only deepened Ben inner conflict.

 

He settled on the compromise of hanging with the bad boys while still making increasing less successful efforts to not be one. Had his mother actual met the sketchy gang he was now running with, Ben wondered if she would still have felt the need to send him away.

 

Ben also marveled at the supposedly wise and omniscient Jedi Mater Luke Skywalker’s ignorant naiveté at what went on after hours at his training temple. He began to play a cynical game to see just how hung over during training he would have to be for his uncle to notice. Luke’s sunny, idealistic outlook combined with Ben’s raw talent making training ridiculously easy for him resulted in his uncle never noticing at all.

 

In the end it boiled down to outright negligence, and only served to fuel Ben’s resentment at his uncle’s incompetence as a parental figure. But even as Ben increasingly engaged in self-destructive behavior, he held out hope his uncle would stop being a terrible guardian, and show up in his room one night to set him straight.

 

That one day Luke would care enough about him as his uncle to discipline him.

 

 

As the months dragged on Ben’s lack of true effort remained apparent to him alone—and the underlying reason remained a secret that increasingly gnawed at him. For what held Ben back during training was the reality that the stronger he grew overall with the Force the stronger the darkness that was rising within him also became. Ben was careful not to use it, but it was getting harder.

 

Ben could not help but contemplate that the Force powers he had been cursed with had been inherited from the most evil man in the galaxy. As his anger and growing aggression only fueled the darkness, Ben also began to wonder with growing trepidation if he had he inherited his grandfather’s evil and propensity for violence as well.

 

He did not want to admit it, but Ben knew the answer to that question, owing largely to now also having an explanation for his mother’s apprehension regarding his Force abilities. Leia Organa had hated her father, and on some level feared—to Ben’s mind _knew_ —she would one day also hate her son.

 

 

As his power with the Force increased the voice in his mind also really began to dig into him—although it had switched from being critical to being seductively soothing.

 

The voice told Ben there was no need for him to fight the darkness. It would be so much easier to just give in. There was real power on the dark side. Power that could protect him from the people who hated him, and thought he was a monster for being Darth Vader’s grandson.

 

And being Vader’s grandson was an honor not something to fear.

 

No one really understood that or understood Ben . . . only the voice in his mind. Certainly not his uncle, or his parents who neglected him so badly. But in reality Ben was remarkably special. More special than he could possibly imagine . . .

 

 _“You don’t understand your importance,”_ the voice frequently crooned.

 

 

Still Ben fought the darkness. He suppressed it and hid it from his Jedi Master uncle. But the darkness was getting stronger, and Ben knew during training it was starting to occasionally leak out.

 

 

There were moments when it was all becoming too much, and Ben wanted to cut his wrists open and drain out all his Vader infected blood. Artoo, who watched over Ben while he slept, however, would protect Ben from any danger as best he could including from Ben himself, and Ben knew the droid would never let him bleed out. So he learnt to live with the thought his family and the galaxy would be better off if he was dead, and did not act on it.

 

It was a comfort to have Artoo with him at the training temple, but Ben’s problems were no longer something they could fix together by swapping out the right ship part. As usual, however, Artoo seemed to have a better grasp on things than most humans including Luke.

 

Artoo also seemed to know more than he should about the Force and Jedi powers for a being that operated outside of it. Furthermore, some of his questions and remarks to Ben made it seem like the little droid had seen this holovid before. Not for the first time the question of just how old Artoo and his likely unwiped memory was passed through Ben’s mind.

 

The fact that Ben was sometimes going by another name seemed to genuinely alarm the little droid. As the only one cognizant of Ben’s rapidly progressing downward spiral, Artoo had tried to straighten him out. One night he even rolled into the middle of one of the Knight’s drunken routs before Ben yelled at him to leave. That had made Ben feel worse than ever, and in the end he had just avoided the droid along with his conscious.

 

Like Ben, Artoo also seemed to be waiting for Luke to intervene. Ben never knew for sure but would not have been surprised if, unlike him, the droid had gotten tired of waiting for the Jedi Master to wake up to the long brewing crisis, and actually said something to Luke to alert him that his nephew needed his attention.

 

Ben was confident, however, that both of them were equally unprepared for what would happen when Luke finally chose to act.

 

 

For what happened _that_ night.

 

 

\--------------------------------

 

 

Throughout his time at the Jedi training temple, Ben often wished his hut had a real door with a lock on it. Artoo still watched over him at night, which allowed him to sleep at all. But Ben knew he would sleep much more soundly knowing his safety was secured by more than just a coarsely woven tapestry.

 

On the night he and Artoo had been waiting for for so long, Ben actually turned fairly early—having a premonition that tonight was going to be the night his uncle finally confronted him and straightened him out. Ben was already asleep when Luke finally arrived. Artoo, who still stood guard outside Ben’s hut even after Ben had yelled at him, had let Luke pass.

 

 

Ben had been in the middle of his reoccurring nightmare—the part with more destruction, pain, and death than he could really stomach—when something abruptly yanked him out of deep sleep. He awoke on his side and opened his eyes to a faint green glow.

 

 

Looking over his shoulder Ben saw his uncle with a crazed look in his eyes—lightsaber ignited and held in his artificial right hand. Luke’s left hand rose to the handle, and with a two handed grip his uncle raised the green blade over Ben.

 

In the split second before his uncle brought his lightsaber down to cut him in two, Ben was only just able to call and ignite his own lightsaber to meet Luke’s as it crashed down with all of his uncle’s strength. Lying vulnerably on his back it took all Ben’s strength to block Luke’s kill stroke with a one handed grip. Ben knew it was not going to last, and with his free hand he reached out to pull the roof down on top of them, screaming to the Force for help in a last ditch effort to save his life.

 

Ben came to and was somehow able to cut himself out of the wreckage of his hut. Although bruised and scraped, he was for the most part miraculously unharmed—and more importantly still alive. He was in no state to be able to tell with complete accuracy whether Luke was dead or alive but unconscious, but he could not readily sense the older man, and guessed his uncle was likely dead.

 

Artoo had been standing outside the now demolished hut, and with beeps filled with alarm asked Ben what had happened.

 

“He tried to kill me, Artoo,” Ben said, his voice beginning to choke up. “He was going to cut me down in my sleep. I woke up and he was standing over me with his lightsaber drawn. He hurled it down on me as soon as he saw I was awake. I barely managed to get out a live.” Ben barely managed to finish before he began to sob openly. Artoo gave off a series of confused and horrified beeps that mirrored Ben’s own feelings.

 

 

The other students and the acolytes currently on Yavin 4 were roused by the commotion, and came to investigate. The Knights, who had not yet gone to sleep, also appeared and quickly made their way towards Ben.

 

Although his eyes were still red, Ben collected himself enough to get the story out. The other students and the acolytes did not believe him. Ben was not surprised. No one would believe him—that the vaulted and noble Jedi Master Luke Skywalker would do something so unthinkable and unforgivable as kill his own nephew in his sleep.

 

Believing Luke was dead, and Ben was the one who had committed the atrocity of killing his own uncle and concocting a ridiculous story to cover it up, the other students ignited their lightsabers and prepared to avenge their beloved master. Regardless of whether or not Ben was telling the truth, the Knights automatically had his back as the other students charged him.

 

 

It was not a close contest.

 

Like everything else that had to do with using the Force, Ben’s skill with a lightsaber far surpassed that of the other students. Thanks to all their late night swordplay, the other Knights were almost as equally skilled. Collectively no match for the rest of the students, the Knights quickly disarmed their outmatched opponents—in the case of those fighting Rogue and Monk quite literally. The defeated students and Luke’s devotees suddenly found themselves at the Knight’s mercy.

 

On _that_ night they found none.

 

 

“They’re just an extension of him, Ren. As long as they’re alive you’ll never be safe,” Rogue said, himself extinguishing his lightsaber.

 

Ben stood towering above the kneeling figures of their defeated adversaries, his lightsaber alone remaining ignited. They were now unarmed, and aggression towards them was well beyond the justification of self-defense.

 

“They hate you. They’ve hate you for years,” Rogue reminded him of the truth. “You can’t leave them alive. You’ll never be safe.”

 

Believing he had just killed his uncle—after his uncle had tried to murder him—Ben was an emotional wreck. For a moment Ben raised his lightsaber above the head of the student who had tormented him the most during the past year. In his eyes Ben now saw only fear.

 

 

Ben hesitated.

 

 

“Do it Ren! Kill them!” Rogue goaded. “You don’t have a choice!”

 

 

With the reminder of his uncle’s last and most indelible lesson, something inside of Ben snapped. He let go of all his pent up rage and emotions kept under careful check his whole life. In that moment he finally gave in, and cut down Luke’s other students and acolytes.

 

Killing would get a lot easier in the years to come. But that night it was raw and horrible. It was the night he earned the Vaderesque moniker “Jedi Killer,” and was the true beginning of him becoming a monster.

 

Only San Tekka and a group of the Church of the Force, who were off world still pursing the quest for the first Jedi Temple escaped the slaughter . . . although their reprieve proved to only be temporary as they fled to a remote village on Jakku.

 

By the time everyone but the Knights lay dead—their blood soaking the ground from the slashes of Ben’s lightsaber—Sniper and Armory had set the training temple ablaze.

 

Ben was in a daze and ignored the other Knight reveling in the wanton destruction. He only placed one limit on them. Ben did not let them hurt Artoo or destroy his uncle’s X-wing, which was the droid’s only way to get off the planet and back home.

 

The Knights themselves were leaving in his uncle’s other ship. Ben was the last to board. Part way up the gangplank Ben looked back. Artoo was beeping mournfully by the X-wing they had flown together with so much joy . . . behind him was the burning temple and a pile of bodies. Ben knew that a significant part of Ben Solo had also died that night, and for the first time Kylo Ren was more than just another name he sometimes used.

 

And unlike Artoo, who he would likely never see again, Ben knew he could never go home and would never be allowed back into his family ever again.

 

 

Seeking only to put as much distance between the Knights and the burning temple and corpses as possible, Ben flew the ship away from Yavin 4 without a destination in mind. The truth was he had no idea where in the galaxy they could go.

 

If he had been thinking clearly, Ben would have realized his best option at that point was to part ways with the Knights at the first spaceport, and hire himself out as pilot. He father has survived just fine in that life.

 

But the voice in his mind he would soon learn was Snoke’s had been mentally grooming him for this moment for a long time—this chance to finally draw him in and entrap him.   Snoke seized the opportunity to reinforce to Ben that he could not make it on his own, and as his uncle had just dramatically taught him—he had no real choices.

 

 _“Your parents have disowned you,”_ Snoke said, before angrily continuing, _“And your uncle feared you growing power so much that he tried to murder his own nephew in cold blood.”_

 

Ben knew it was true.

 

His parents had made it clear that Ben would not be allowed to follow his father in the path he wanted. No, his destiny was written in stone through his maternal Skywalker lineage—and it absolutely terrified him. He had learned much during his time at the training temple, but his uncle’s last and most indelible lesson to Ben was that giving in to the darkness within him was not a choice—it was a path as fixed and unavoidable as his bloodline.

 

His parents had washed their hands of their Vaderspawn offspring, believing him to be a bad seed and lost cause. His uncle had chosen a more proactive intervention. No, his family was done with him . . . and in that moment Ben was done with his family.

 

 _“Not just your family, but everyone . . . you’ve seen the hate in their eyes,”_ Snoke added.

 

 _“No one will help the grandson of Vader. They will only seek to kill you,”_ Snoke fed Ben’s deep insecurities and feeling of isolation. _“You’re nothing. Worse than nothing—you’re a monster to be feared and destroyed,”_ Snoke’s voice crescendoed in anger before abruptly softening.

 

 

_“. . . but not to me.”_

 

 

To Snoke alone being Darth Vader’s grandson was something to be proud of not something to fear . . .

 

Snoke continued soothingly, _“To me you are truly special. Your raw, untamed power is what all true masters live to see.”_ Snoke’s voice swelled with passion and promise, _“Come to me. I will help you follow in your grandfather’s footsteps, and fufill your destiny as his rightful heir.”_

 

 

For a third time Snoke offered Ben an alternative destination.

 

Again Ben hesitated.

 

He had resisted Snoke for so long. An emotional mess, however, Ben ate up Snoke’s poisonous words, and his resolve crumbled.

 

Unlike Luke facing a similar temptation decades before, Ben was not aboard the _Falcon_ with his friends about to jump to lightspeed after Artoo fixed the hyperdrive, and heading toward the welcoming arms of the Rebel Alliance.

 

Ben was alone and vulnerable, believing his parents had thrown him away and his uncle had just tried to kill him. Convinced he was out of other options, Ben at last succumbed and entered the coordinates the voice had provided into the ship’s navigational computer.

 

 

**The Knights of Ren**

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think is significant that Artoo is also at the training temple (as evidenced by Rey's Force vision). Although I sadly don't think they will have time to do much with him in episode IX, I actually think Artoo is one of the most important characters in the whole Skywalker saga. He is the only character who was actually present and has an intact memory of the events of all three generations of Skywalker men. He was close to Anakin and Luke, and I think it makes sense (and otherwise would be a missed opportunity) that he would also be close to Ben. 
> 
> I also think another way to conceptualize Ben/Kylo Ren is his situation is analogous to what would have happened if Bruce Wayne/Batman had stayed allied with the League of Shadows. And in that analogy, for me Artoo would have totally been Alfred.
> 
> Thank you very much for reading, and for the comments and kudos. They are much appreciated!
> 
>  
> 
> Acknowledgment of works of commentary that contributed ideas significantly included in this chapter:
> 
> SWC: Kylo Ren and the Portrayal of Masculinity in Star Wars  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k5nGoYklHu8
> 
> LOTS Podcast: Psychology of the Characterization: Kylo Ren  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DsdViE8mse4
> 
> LOTS Podcast: How Will Kylo Redeem Himself?  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VBo--5T9Qmk&t=1640s
> 
>  
> 
> Artwork: Art of the Last Jedi, page 83  
> Knights of Ren Artwork: Art of The Force Awakens, page 212, 223 


	7. The Dark Knight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The corruption and brainwashing of Ben Solo, and the rise of Kylo Ren.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like Starkiller base, I think Kylo’s red lightsaber has some interesting parallels to his fall to the dark side, and relationship with Snoke.
> 
> According to Wookiepedia here is where red kyber crystals come from:
> 
> “Kyber crystals were inherently attuned to the light side of the Force, and resisted any effort by dark-side practitioners to use them in lightsabers. To this end, a Sith or other dark-sider could use a kyber crystal only by using the Force to dominate the crystal, bending it to their will. This process caused the crystal to "bleed," as if it were a living organism, resulting in the distinctive crimson-bladed lightsabers synonymous with the Sith. It was possible to "heal" a corrupted kyber crystal . . . [in which case] the crystals turned white.”
> 
> I find the symbolism of the coded as Eve and a captured princess, genderbent Kylo ending up with a cracked red (like apples, pomegranates, and blood) kyber crystal kicking up his relationship with Snoke to a whole new level of ick.

 

 

 

**Chapter 7: The Dark Knight**

 

 

Over the course of Supreme Leader Snoke’s millennia-long life, the ancient serpentine humanoid had witnessed much and learnt great deal.

 

He watched the rise and fall of both the Jedi and the Sith. He witnessed the slow decay of the Republic, Emperor Palpatine’s carefully crafted rise to power, and the resulting Galactic Civil War. He watched with increasing interest the collapse of the Empire and the New Republic’s failure to integrate the remaining Imperials into their new society—leaving them ripe for Snoke’s picking.

 

 

And over the last several decades—from the earliest moments of life—Snoke had closely watched Ben Solo.

 

 

Palpatine had been wise to not only want Anakin Skywalker as a powerful apprentice, but in securing his allegiance the Sith Lord had also removed the possibility of having the young Jedi as a formidable foe.

 

As Snoke seized control of the remnants of the Imperials and fashioned them more fully into the First Order, he was not surprised that Vader’s demigod children were his main adversaries. The Supreme Leader also had no interest in adding Vader’s grandson to his list of enemies.

 

Palpatine’s downfall was underestimating the strength of family ties, and it had cost him his empire and his life. It was not a mistake Snoke planned to repeat.

 

 

Even if nobody else understood at the time, Snoke knew the potential strength with the Force the boy’s Skywalker bloodline foreshadowed meant that as he grew into his Force gift Ben Solo would personally shift the balance of power to whichever side held his allegiance. Fully aware of the boy’s existence even in his mother’s womb, Snoke had begun stalking and exerting his insidious influence over Ben’s mind and development from before he was even born.

 

Had Ben had a more attentive family, Snoke knew his plan likely would have been much more difficult to execute or possibly not worked at all. Thankfully the boy’s family was spectacularly neglectful, and poisoning Ben’s relationship with his parents and uncle had not been particularly difficult. His family had so ill prepared him for the truth about his lineage that Snoke knew from his vantage point inside of Ben’s mind that the boy justifiably considered withholding the truth about Vader to be a lie.

 

Even after the victory of such a damaging betrayal, however, there still came the dangerous moment when Ben wished to follow his mother and fight the First Order. Snoke knew that if Ben Solo had joined the Resistance all the Supreme Leader’s efforts would have been for naught, and the boy would have likely been lost to him for good. Visions of Ben Solo and Poe Dameron flying tandem circles around Hux’s forces was not something Snoke liked to think about, nor thankfully did he have to.

 

Leia Organa had played her part beautifully in Snoke’s plan. The stupid woman thought she could keep her son safely out of the fight, and only succeeded in widening the gap between the boy and his family. The final nail in the coffin had been ironically delivered by Skywalker himself. To Snoke’s great delight, it was the redeemer of Vader who had been the catalyst to finally allow Snoke to lure Ben Solo away from his family for his own twisted purposes.

 

 

At long last Ben Solo was his . . .

 

 

Of all the children Snoke had snatched from throughout the galaxy, stealing the massively talented crown prince of the New Republic out from under his parents and Jedi Master uncle’s noses was one of the Supreme Leader’s greatest achievements. Furthermore, the Skywalker twins were both a thorn in Snoke’s side, and he took great pleasure in hurting their family in such a personal way.

 

Although he kept his true opinion carefully hidden from the boy—keeping Ben’s self-esteem as low as possible was after all essential to keeping him controllable and preventing him from becoming a threat to Snoke himself—Ben had turned out to be stronger with the Force and to have more potential than Snoke could have ever hoped.

 

 

Even with Ben Solo safely aboard the _Supremacy_ , however, Snoke knew the boy still needed to be handled with great care.

 

Ben had resisted Snoke for his entire life. Although he was full of the darkness he had inherited from Vader, his own light had risen up within him to meet and balance it. No matter how much anger Ben had, and no matter how much Snoke got inside his head, messed with his emotions, and tried to cultivate the darkness in him, Ben had consistently chosen not to use it, and clung to the light. Ben also had his father’s good heart, and chosen to be a good person and live a life of diligent virtue, even with very little encouragement or outside reinforcement.

 

The other Knights had needed no convincing, and Snoke had outfitted them for his service immediately. But Snoke knew even though he was in physical possession of Ben Solo, he would not be able gain the boy’s allegiance or cooperation with promises of power, wealth, glory, or any of the other things that usually worked to draw young men away from the light—and was even now working with the rest of the Ben’s companions.

 

 

No, the only thing that would work to turn Ben Solo’s heart was the one thing he craved so desperately: family.

 

 

Although Kylo Ren would on day believe his fatal flaw was his carefully cultivated out of control temper, it was Ben Solo’s need for parental approval and family connections that was his greatest weakness. Fairly impressively it was at that point Ben’s only major weakness that Snoke could exploit, but Snoke was more than up to the task.

 

It also tied in perfectly to the Supreme Leader’s plans for Ben anyway. Well aware of the power of symbols, Snoke sought to provide the First Order with as many reminders as possible of the Empire from which it descended—and there was no more powerful visual representation of Imperial heritage than Vader.

 

Privately Snoke viewed the Sith Lord as the glorified lackey and enforcer that he had been, whom in the Emperor’s arrogance and overconfidence Palpatine had fatally mismanaged. Publicly, however, Snoke sought out every possible Vader relic he could find—even pulling the chard and deformed mask off Vader’s funeral pyre on Endor.

 

In acquiring the grandson of Vader, Snoke possessed the ultimate Vader relic and trophy—the living embodiment of the Dark Lord.

 

A New Vader.

 

With their own Vader circumventing normal military command and terrorizing everyone, the First Order would finally look like the Heir to the Empire that it was. Snoke would also have his own gifted apprentice and enforcer as well—one he would do a much better job of keeping on a leash than the ill-fated Palpatine.

 

 

\--------------------------------

 

 

The first time he came face to face with Supreme Leader Snoke, Ben knew he was in serious trouble.

 

Ben’s fears were calmed, however, by the thought he could escape the First Order anytime he wanted. He could fly anything, and benefiting from both his father and Artoo believing that hotwiring spaceships was an essential life skill, he could also easily steal a ship.

 

The Supreme Leader had also been lavish with his welcome and hospitality in the beginning—never once trying to keep Ben with him by physical force, and carefully weaving his spell so the young man would not bolt—which further lulled Ben into inaction.

 

Besides which Ben literally had nowhere else to go . . . something of which Snoke regularly reminded him.

 

Snoke did not rush Ben, even going so far as to give him a degree of mental space. Knowing too that the only way to truly win over the young man was through his grandfather, Snoke also provided Ben with full access to the Imperial archives the First Order had acquired and into which they had sliced.

 

History had always been Ben’s favorite subject in school, and as he worked his way through the records of the Empire he got a startlingly different viewpoint on all the events he thought he knew so well. In any conflict it is the privilege of the victors write history, and Ben was immersing himself in the version of events he would have learnt if the Battle of Endor or the final battle over Jakku had ended differently.

 

 

Ben was also getting a very different perspective of his grandfather, the Lord Darth Vader.

 

Anakin Skywalker had rescued Chancellor Palpatine when he had been kidnapped during the Clone Wars, and again save his life when the Jedi tried to assassinate him. Then his grandfather had also stood by the Republic and stopped the Jedi when they tried to overthrow the government.

 

Ben also learnt that his grandfather wore the mask and body armor that struck fear in the hearts of his enemies only after his close mentor, Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, sought to avenge the Jedi by cutting off all Vader’s limbs and leaving him to die on the fiery slops of Mustafar.

 

Ben suddenly began to wonder about many things.

 

Did anyone else have the records into which the First Order had slice? And where had the version of events Ben had learnt in school come from regarding Vader and the Jedi, anyway?

 

With regard to the Jedi, Ben knew the answer was simple: Lor San Tekka.

 

Ben knew for a fact that the old explorer’s blind devotion had glossed over a great many inconvenient truths about the Jedi of the Old Republic. How was anyone to know whether or not that included San Tekka’s assertions that the Jedi were innocent victims rather than aggressors who had been justly fended off? With a convincing alternative available, Ben no longer felt compelled to swallow everything San Tekka fed him about the Jedi like his mother and everyone else did.

 

Ben now asked himself a question no one had ever bothered to ask him before: what did he personally think of the Jedi of the Old Republic? After being forced to live by the Jedi Code for a whole year, that was easy—Ben thought the Jedi were crazy.

 

 

And what of Vader?

 

Belief that Vader had renounced his allegiance to the Galactic Empire and been “redeemed” from the dark side before his death rested on the testimony of the sole remaining eyewitness, Luke Skywalker . . . Ben’s uncle who had tried to murder him like Obi-Wan had tried to murder Vader.

 

Psychologically Ben was, therefore, left with a choice regarding his grandfather: his uncle had believed the most evil man in the history of galaxy was not beyond redemption but his nephew who had not committed any major crimes was not, or the man who had tried to murder his nephew in his sleep had lied to get his twin sister out of a sticky political situation, and Vader had been a martyr of the Empire. In the end Ben ended up accepting both on some level, but consciously told himself he believed the latter.

 

Furthermore, having grown up around the chaos of the New Republic Senate that his mother had spent his entire childhood trying to wrangle into some semblance of a manageable government, Ben found that the ideals of the Galactic Empire—order, structure, peace—where ones with which he agreed. And these were the principals on which the First Order was founded . . .

 

 

That night Ben found himself in his usual recurring nightmare, standing in the dimly light cave.   Out of a darker part of the cavern Ben heard the sound of heavy footsteps, then mechanical breathing, and Darth Vader strode towards him out of the shadows. For the first time Ben did not scream or try to flee. Ben stood still and looked at his grandfather . . . as Vader reached one black-gloved hand out to him in invitation. Ben took a step towards him and reached out his own hand in answer, and as his fingers touched the black glove that covered his grandfather’s mechanical hand Ben abruptly woke up.

 

For the first time in over a year he did not wake up screaming.

 

The night before he had gone to sleep still Ben Solo. The morning after the dream he woke up accepting the darkness within him, and thinking of himself as Kylo Ren.

 

 

Following weeks of immersing himself in the Imperial archives, Kylo emerged personally aligned with his grandfather’s side, the heir of which was the First Order.

 

Whether on the dark side or the light, good and evil had also become concepts relative to one’s own point of view. Imbued with this new worldview, Ben came to an acceptance that there was no such thing as objective truth, and any action was justifiable in pursuit of noble goals.

 

To that end Kylo was ready to take up the role in the First Order that Snoke had been carefully grooming him for throughout his entire life.

 

 

To become strong with dark side of the Force like his grandfather was his destiny—Kylo accepted that. But he also knew it was something he could not accomplish alone. He needed someone to show him his place in all this. He needed a teacher.

 

Supreme Leader Snoke—the only one in the galaxy who could help Kylo become a New Vader—graciously accepted Kylo as his apprentice, and assumed the responsibility for housing, outfitting, and training the gifted Force-user.

 

 

In anticipation of the inevitable, Kylo’s quarters on the _Supremacy_ were already prepared by the time he had need of them. Styled in black and chrome metal they were multi-roomed and quite spacious for being aboard ship.

 

Laid out on his new bed, Kylo also found the attire that had been prepared for him to fully bring to life the persona of Kylo Ren. Soon Kylo found himself clad head to toe in black leather pants, long sleeved shirt, high boots, and gloves. Over that was the regalia of a knight of old, to which was added a cape and cowl.

 

Then of course there was the mask.

 

Although an echo, Kylo’s new mask was not a duplicate of Vader’s. It was styled in black metal, eyeless, with chrome accents that reflected the light.

 

It was beautiful.

 

Kylo had been figuratively wearing a mask for a while, and putting on his new physical one made him feel better concealed and more powerful.

 

In addition to a mask of his own, Snoke had also entrusted to Kylo his most precious article: the recovered mask of the Lord Darth Vader—although Snoke would not tell Kylo from where it had been obtained. Both masks made Kylo feel powerfully allied with his grandfather, now the only male in his family for whom he had any respect.

 

 

As a New Vader he would of course also need to construct a new lightsaber, which according to Snoke meant a new kyber crystal. Living fruit of the Force, kyber crystals were rare. A crystal that had been subjugated by a Sith until it bled red was even rarer. Snoke had such a red crystal.

 

While Vader had corrupted his own kyber crystal to fashion his new red saber, Snoke had simply given Kylo one that was already red. The blood colored crystal was cracked and corrupted by impurities that resulted in the red blade possessing a jagged angry edge. The saber of Kylo Ren also gave off a spitting sound and crackled with power when ignited.

 

It could not have been more different from the lightsaber Ben Solo had constructed for himself—one of traditional design, with a strongly bright blue white blade possessing a sleek clean edge and a pure sound. Snoke had made Kylo destroy his old lightsaber with his new one the second the red saber was constructed.

 

Kylo had also included cross guards in his new design. Principally, they acted as a release valve for the excess power that was emitted from the new saber. Although initially conceived of as an additional layer of protection for himself, Kylo occasionally ended up using the guards to inflict damage on his opponents.

 

The young ace, who was now the property of the First Order, also soon found out what it was like to fly a TIE fighter. While TIEs could really move and were quite maneuverable, Kylo found he still preferred an X-wing. Opportunity to compare the two models did not last long, however, as Snoke soon presented Kylo with his own starfighter—a TIE Silencer—the latest prototype of what had been Vader’s ship. In addition to superior weapons and flight controls to a regular TIE fighter, the Silencer was also customized to Kylo’s preferences and specifications.

 

 

Both Kylo’s new saber and starfighter conveyed raw power and hyperaggression, foreshadowing the destruction he would inflict throughout the galaxy upon the enemies of the First Order. Kylo soon found he had need for such outlets for his growing anger and hostility particularly after Snoke began his dark side training in earnest . . . and Kylo began to learn the true cost of all the gifts Snoke was lavishing upon him.

 

At the Jedi training temple, Luke had never appreciated just how easy the skills he was teaching were for his nephew, who skated by on talent, wowed with half-assed attempts, and left training sessions unchallenged and bored. Snoke, however, refused to tolerate anything less than maximum effort from his new apprentice. Kylo soon found himself unimaginably powerful in the Force, and shocked by what he could do—like stop a blaster bolt in midair.

 

Kylo’s new master also regularly reminded him that if he was to be a New Vader he had to act like it—that his destiny was not merely to grow strong with the Force, but strong with the dark side. To that end, Kylo gradually found himself learning to control people both mentally and physical through the Force.

 

Corrupting Ben Solo was a delicate process, and Snoke was patient—to a point. In the beginning if he had ordered Kylo to torture someone with the mindprobe Kylo would have refused and let Snoke kill him with blue lightning before changing his mind. Snoke, however, did not immediately attempt to coerce his apprentice into misuses of the Force that were squarely on the dark side. Instead Snoke fed Kylo a steady diet of Vader, and reinforced the worldview where good and evil were relative, and anything was justified for the sake a their good cause to which Kylo had previously been brainwashed.

 

Under Snoke’s ministrations, Kylo gradually became skilled in performing the mindprobe to learn other’s secrets—along with inflicting further punishments—and routinely committed other atrocities and acts of violence. Unlike learning to fly with Artoo or even his initial miserable training in the Force with his uncle, Kylo never felt good about learning to use the dark side of the Force. It made him feel empty and dead inside.

 

Snoke was also hypercritical and exacting in his expectations. Kylo often found himself receiving a chest full of blue lightning if he failed to meet them, or managed to incurred his master’s wrath in some other way. Furthermore, the training method his master employed to develop his dark side skills usually involved Snoke first performing them on his young apprentice, and then forcing Kylo to practice on the unfortunate individuals the Supreme Leader had designated for the task.

 

But as Snoke repeatedly pointed out to Kylo, any harshness on his part was Kylo’s own fault due to his poor work ethic during training, or the young Force user’s failure to live up to his potential—something to which Snoke was graciously dedicating his time and wisdom to help Kylo achieve.

 

 

Kylo knew Snoke was turning him into a weapon. He also knew from the Imperial archives that that was what his grandfather had been for the Empire. Accepting and eventually embracing that role in the First Order, Kylo became a beast that Snoke unleashed on his enemies and victims.

 

 

Unlike Leia, Snoke also had no problems using Kylo’s considerable piloting skills in the service of the First Order. The TIE Silencer was not Kylo’s dream black X-wing, but it was just as sleek and even more deadly. Far and away the best fighter pilot in the First Order, Kylo soon added scores of his childhood dream ships to his kill list.

 

Quickly bored with traditional fighter combat, Kylo soon left enemy starfighters to the rank and file TIE pilots, instead turning his sights to bigger prey: capital ships.

 

His favorite trick was evading a ship’s own weaponry, infiltrating the hanger—preferably containing unlaunched starfighters—and delivering a devastating salvo of missiles into vulnerable belly of the enemy. His other was finding the weak points in a ship’s shields, which if they were fleeing Hux and the First Order capital ships often meant the bridge was left vulnerable to Kylo.

 

And if the capital ship in questions was the flagship? Well, that usually meant the battle itself would soon be over, as when Kylo had effectively cut off their head, the rest of the leaderless opposition’s forces were quickly neutralized.

 

He had soon built up such a reputation that the mere sight of his starfighter incited fear in the enemy that he could feel through the Force.

 

 

Kylo’s deployment was not limited to space combat, however, and he frequently lent his destructive skillset to ground assault as well. In that endeavor he was join by the companions with which he had arrived—now formally designated as the Knights of Ren.

 

Snoke had also outfitted the other Knights for their new role, and Kylo found the rest of the group was already ready to go when he finally chose to rejoin them. Although the Knights of Ren bore more resemblance to a speeder bike or swoop gang than an elite unit of the First Order, the thought of them being set loose to lay waste to the countryside still incited terror in the community and planetary leaders Snoke was trying to either steal from or subdue.

 

For those foolish enough to resist the might of the First Order, Kylo’s command shuttle would descend among the TIE fighter air cover like a raptor, the ramp would lower, and the Knights would stride out into the fray. They would then roll through the opposition, doling out death by lightsaber, destruction, and mayhem.

 

Although they now bore his name, Kylo knew he was still not really the their master. As long as he occasionally led them into opportunity for mayhem and violence, however, they were content to have him for their leader and for the most part do his bidding.

 

Whether inciting bedlam on the ground with the other Knights of Ren or in space with his TIE Silencer, Kylo quickly became the Frist Order’s most effective first strike weapon. Without him slicing through their enemies the First Order would have never been able seize control of so many star systems at such great speed.

 

 

Fear of his destructive potential was not limited to those outside the First Order. Patterning himself after Vader, who used his lethal temper to motivate the troops, Kylo practiced imitation of his grandfather until his calculated loss of control became almost equally effectively. That usually meant terrorizing poor Lieutenant Mitaka. Kylo knew the junior officers drew straws when there was bad news to be delivered to him—or any news at all that required standing in his presence. Privately Kylo thought Mitaka had the worst luck of which he had ever heard.

 

The persona of Kylo Ren was also the antithesis of Ben Solo. Ben was polite, kind, and considerate. Possessing an almost endless supply of patience, which frequently veered off into a dysfunctional degree of passivity, he routinely choose to suppress his feelings rather than let them be visible to others.

 

Kylo Ren was everything everyone conveyed to Ben they expected someone with Vader’s darkness to inevitably be. He was an arrogant jerk, who treated others horribly, was terrifying and dangerous, and was worthy of all the looks he had gotten on Hosnian Prime as Vader’s grandson. With his grandfather’s explosive temper as the expected model for how to deal with emotions—the only acceptable one being anger—Kylo ceased to suppress his, instead converting his sadness into aggression, and using it to fuel his rapidly growing dark side powers.

 

Being a Vader, however, did not come naturally to Kylo. Even with all his hard work to maintain his proper image, his true self would still occasionally slip through a crack. Unlike his grandfather, Kylo frequently chose to leave most of the individuals who experienced his chastisement alive, which he justified to himself as his desire to swell the ranks of those who had received a lesson. Far from damaging his reputation among the rank and file, however, Kylo’s occasional bouts of mercy—as stormtrooper FN 2187 would one day experience in a small village on Jakku—made him even more unsettlingly unpredictable and only increased the fear in which he was held.

 

Resultantly, while Kylo choked many an underling and destroyed a great deal of electronic equipment, his actual body count among military personnel was nowhere near that of his grandfather or even Hux.

 

 

Upon officially joining the First Order, Kylo had unsurprisingly also immediately become one of Snoke’s top three lieutenants, along with Captain Phasma and General Armitage Hux.

 

Phasma’s role in the First Order was turning the children Snoke stole from across the galaxy into the legions of stormtroopers, who collectively would bring peace and order to the galaxy under the First Order’s rule. Started by Hux’s father, Brendol Hux, the First Order’s program for transforming children into trained soldiers was modeled after the Jedi Order of the Old Republic.

 

Kylo thought her job was insane, but Phasma herself was good at it. The captain of the stormtroopers also understood where she fell in the pecking order in relation to him, and Kylo never had any trouble coexisting alongside her.

 

 

Hux was an entirely different story.

 

 

The bastard son of one of the founding officers of the First Order, Armitage Hux had risen through nepotism instead of experience or merit. Kylo, who had always valued competence, efficiency, and honesty, had no respect for Hux, whose skills appeared limited to taking credit for other people’s work, igniting his temper until it matched his flaming red hair—which to Kylo was merely Hux whining at high volume—and scheming to dispatch anyone who stood as an obstacle in his rise to power.

 

Kylo did not understand how Snoke could entrust an incompetent rabid cur with such a position of power, particularly when there were other officers available. Captain Moden Canady was an old school Imperial and experienced Star Destroyer captain. If Kylo had had a say in whom to put in charge of the First Order fleet his first choice would have been Canady. Unfortunately by the time he was in control of such decisions Canady’s prediction that Hux was the “idiot who is going to get us all killed,” had already come true for the old veteran.

 

Kylo’s second choice, Edrison Peavey was also a veteran of the Galactic Civil War and a founding member of the First Order. His ability to patiently feign respect in Hux’s presence while subtly steering his younger superior in the least inept direction had quickly caught Kylo’s eye. It had more than once struck Kylo that Peavey was the kind of man who could have ended up in several different occupations—but the times and circumstances in which he was born made a military career all but inevitable—and captaining a Star Destroyer and its accompanying forces was really the only thing the senior officer knew how to do.

 

 

Furthermore, Kylo and Hux could not have professionally been more different.

 

The ginger haired General of the First Order generally spent his time screaming orders and stomping around the bridge of whatever Star Destroyer he happened to be on, oblivious to the carefully concealed looks senior officers gave each other behind his back. Hux also loved excessive carnage and destruction, while Kylo at least initially approached war from a vantage point of restraint.

 

To his own mild surprise, Kylo himself turned out to be a cunning warrior and excellent overall tactician—crossing into the realm of genius when it came to starfighter combat.

 

Flying wing for the Silencer was a privilege reserved for only the top TIE fighter pilots, who still knew Ren would always be the best. Their jobs consisted mainly in following his lead, covering him, and taking the shots for which he skillfully set them up.

 

Trained from an early age for leadership, Kylo found he was also confortable giving orders and deploying troops allocated for his use in a level headed manner. He was also not above pulling his division, calling off an attack, or making other adjustments on the rare occasion a battle was not going his way.

 

Kylo’s overall philosophy was one of restraint and efficiently, with a goal to subdue the opposition with the least amount of life lost on both sides. Although possessing a personal preference for acting mainly in self-defense, when Kylo needed to send a message it was done on his part with the goal of deferring further bloodshed in the future . . . although his tolerance for violence and mental justification for it grew over time.

 

While the lives of stormtroopers and fleet personnel were cheap to Vader, who had never made the mental shift from commanding clones back to individual people, his grandson differed greatly. While still holding Kylo in terror, the smarter troops of the First Order privately knew their lives were much safer in Kylo’s hands than in Hux’s. Furthermore, unlike Hux who gave orders from the safety of a Star Destroyer bridge somewhere far away from the fighting, Kylo was usually on the ground fighting along side them. While he remained outside the normal chain of military command, the “sir” Kylo was addressed with was nonetheless an earned title of genuine respect.

 

When it came to ground combat Kylo, the rest of the Knights of Ren, and the stormtroopers assigned to him handled everything that did not require heavy weaponry. Not that they were incapable, but Kylo quickly learned that Hux would become so insufferably annoying if he did not get to periodically play with his war toys, that the Force user stayed alert for opportunities to let the other man occasionally have his own way.

 

 

An additional difference between Hux and his older more qualified subordinates, was Hux’s deep commitment to advanced technology, a trait that would have been a great asset in a competent officer who also embraced the wisdom of the past. To Hux’s mind, computers—particularly the supercomputer on the _Supremacy_ which incorporated hyperdrive tech to speed up processing to light speed—were vastly more important than Phasma’s expendable troops.

 

Not that he had a hand in developing any of the technology he loved so much. But Hux _appreciated_ it.

 

Hux was extremely proud of the technological marvels and advanced weaponry others had created under his watchful eye, and he, furthermore, deeply resent it being upstaged by Kylo Ren and his _unnatural_ powers.

 

Kylo sliced through the opposition with surgical precision, typically leaving the glorious forces of the First Order war machine with nothing to contribute but to mop up after him. After wreaking havoc on the leadership of the opposition, Kylo would return to the flagship, and saunter onto the bridge for a brief debriefing. With Kylo’s own work having been completed, when it came time for the tedious and thankless job of post battle clean up more often than not Kylo would simply tell Hux “I leave that to you” and—to Hux’s mind—cockily strut back to the Knights or to his quarters.

 

Worst of all, after having spent years overseeing the construction of Starkiller Base, Hux was livid that Kylo showed up out of the blue one day and suddenly became the First Order’s top super weapon. With Kylo around, Snoke seemed to be taking Hux and the technology, for which Hux contributed to in a supervisory capacity, increasingly for granted, including the nearly complete Starkiller Base.

 

 

Hux was not one to take the intolerable situation lying down, and although they were technically on the same side, he was constantly on the look out for ways to undermine his Force wielding counterpart.

 

The most memorable was perhaps the time Hux had subtly but deliberately pulled the First Order forces back so they were out of range to cover Kylo’s fighter.

 

“Ren, the enemy has pulled out of range. We can’t cover you at this distance. Return to the fleet,” Hux had informed Kylo.

 

At the time it had required Kylo to return his Silencer to the hanger leaving Hux to the enjoyable task of pounding away at the enemy with a barrage from the Star Destroyer’s turbolasers—but his Force sensitive rival had known exactly what Hux had done. Kylo had been mad, Snoke had been madder, and that had put an end to that ploy.

 

 

On a personal level, Kylo and Hux absolutely loathed one another, and over the years they were constantly at odds and at each other’s throats—sometimes quit literally.

 

Hux unreservedly worshiped Snoke. Unlike Kylo, Hux felt not the slightest tinge of inner conflict, instead resembling a vicious animal in love with a master more evil than himself. Beyond his furry towards Kylo for upstaging his weaponry, Hux was also deeply jealous and resentful that Kylo was clearly Snoke’s favorite, and upon whom Snoke lavished more attention.

 

In the early days of their rivalry, before Hux better understood Kylo’s powers, Hux had tried having Kylo’s food poisoned. Kylo had immediately felt the disturbance in the Force, and with ease had uncovered the plot. It was not an incident that Kylo could ignore for his own future self-preservation, and it pushed him beyond his normal voluntary uses of his powers.

 

Vader would have summarily executed the entire kitchen staff. Kylo took the time to mindprobe them all and identify the guilty party. In front of Hux and their innocent counterparts on Starkiller Base, Kylo had systematically executed the members of the conspiracy by crushing their windpipes one by one, with a look at Hux that clearly communicated that no matter what his rank if he ever tried anything like that again Kylo would kill him too.

 

Snoke had been more to the point, himself inflicting enough physical punishment on Hux to appease Kylo’s rage over the incident. As much as Snoke enjoyed pitting the two of them against each other, the Supreme Leader made abundantly clear what Kylo had already sensed: as long as Snoke lived he would not tolerate—even by accident—the two lieutenants killing each other.

 

 

Privately, Snoke had been quit pleased by the incident as Kylo had been forced to take matters into his own hands—performing the mindprobe of his own initiative, and executing the guilty as a necessary deterrent towards future attempt on his life. To Kylo the incident also emphasized Snoke’s mindset that while his master could do anything he wanted to his apprentice, no one else was allowed to touch Kylo.

 

 

Kylo thought Hux was ridiculously incompetent, and contemptuously viewed him with a complete lack of respect. He would, however, have gladly traded places with him when it came to his relationship with Snoke.

 

His master gave him all the personal attention he could possibly want . . . and much Kylo did not.

 

All his fears and insecurities were still there, something Snoke knew all about and exploited to the fullest. But on the outside—covered head to toe and styled to resemble Vader—Kylo now masked his inadequacies over with unbridled rage, aggression, and arrogance that failed to slipped into overconfidence solely because his Force powers and piloting skills were so immense.

 

Everyone both without and within the First Order remained in awed terror of the Dark Knight, Kylo Ren. With any hint of weakness, vulnerability, or his true feelings hidden beneath his mask and multiple layers of clothing, from the outside he appeared invincible and to be in complete command.

 

 

And Kylo was grateful that the shameful truth of what was happening to him remained a secret.

 

 

Dark side training with Snoke was a living nightmare. Snoke had quickly striped away all his mental barriers, and Kylo found himself laid bare for his master’s critique and criticism. But Snoke repeatedly point out that it was only right—an apprentice should have no secrets from his master.

 

The best Kylo could do was push things he did not want Snoke to see off to the periphery in hopes his master would over look them, but Snoke took a perverse pleasure in finding whatever it was Kylo was trying to keep private. Kylo kept practicing, however, knowing deep down that one day his life would depend on his ability to even temporarily hide something from Snoke.

 

Kylo eventually found himself giving—or more accurately letting Snoke take—everything his master wanted and everything Kylo had.

 

 

And what Snoke wanted was power.

 

 

Kylo discovered that a sizeable portion of his master’s motivation for training him and cultivating his power with the Force was so Snoke could leach it from him. Resultantly, spending any time connected to Snoke in the Force left Kylo feeling drained and profoundly used. Worst of all, the look of ecstasy on Snoke’s face and the tone of his voice as he drained off some of the young Force user’s energy made Kylo feel physically filthy.

 

He fervently wished he could go back and refuse everything Snoke bestowed upon him as he was groomed for life in the First Order—the refuge after his uncle tried to kill him, the Silencer, the high position in the First Order and everything that went with it—everything that was supposed to make what Snoke was taking from him a fair and palatable exchange.

 

 

_Because it wasn’t._

 

 

By that point, however, Kylo felt powerless to get away. He realized the monstrous weapon of mass destruction the First Order was building was an apt metaphor for what was happening to him. Starkiller Base harnessed the energy of the sun—until the sun was completely gone—before using that energy to obliterate not merely single planets but entire star systems.

 

How long would it be until Snoke sucked him completely dry? And what would become of him when he had been drained of all his power?

 

 

Those questions weighed heavily on Kylo’s mind as gazed out of the _Finalizer_ and watched the maiden launch of Starkiller.

 

His mother had stood with her dark father and watched the Death Star destroy Alderaan. There was no warlord and captured princess on the bridge of the Star Destroyer to watch Starkiller’s destruction of the Hosnian system, just Kylo—who himself was an embodiment of both. He stood alone and watched his homeworld die, along with his childish dream of someday returning home.

 

 

In his heart Kylo felt nothing but the profoundest depth of despair.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading, and for the comments and kudos. They are much appreciated! Also feel free to come say hi on Tumblr, https://jp2187.tumblr.com/
> 
>  
> 
> One of the things I am enjoying about the ST is how many different kinds of love triangles it has.
> 
> I think "Ben, Rey, and Snoke" is the main (incredibly creepy) love triangle we've seen so far.
> 
> Then we have "Rey, Ben, and Finn." Which in my mind can pretty much be summarized as, Finn: "Back off my sister." Ben & Rey: "No."
> 
> The maternal "Leia, Ben, and Poe (stand in for the Resistance in general)," is one I find quite interesting, and am sorry they won't likely be able to do anything with the passing of Carrie Fisher :( . . . but I am resolving it, dang it!
> 
> And then of course the totally messed up "Snoke, Kylo, Hux" rivalry triangle. I love Hux and Kylo fighting so much.
> 
>  
> 
> Acknowledgment of works of commentary that contributed ideas significantly included in this chapter:
> 
> SWC: Snoke in the TFA parts 1 & 2  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JQK8QkqogEw&t=81s  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uFr-vQvHYsc&t=64s
> 
> SWC: Kylo Ren and the Portrayal of Masculinity in Star Wars  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k5nGoYklHu8
> 
> LOTS Podcast: Psychology of the Characterization: Kylo Ren  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DsdViE8mse4
> 
> SWC: Rey and Kylo as Adam and Eve parts 1 & 2  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8MnYSctj1RM  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xyEUSld-aa0
> 
> SWC: Rey’s Origins: Snoke is the Key  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SC6W2_Br26g
> 
> Wayward Jedi: Supreme Leader Snoke - A Mythic Case Study  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RLDs7mtg9g4&t=285s
> 
> How Darth Vader Turned His Lightsaber RED (CANON) - Star Wars Explained  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uwd2cEt14_U
> 
>  
> 
> Artwork: Art of The Force Awakens, page 13


	8. “Let the Past Die—Kill It if You Have To”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter in Ben’s back story, and covers the events leading up to killing Han and confronting Luke from Ben’s point of view. It also covers Snoke’s agenda, and explores the parallels in the twisted relationship between Snoke/Kylo and Palpatine/Vader.
> 
> This is a psychology heavy chapter, and based largely on LOTS Podcast: Psychology of the Characterization: Kylo Ren, and SWC: Kylo Ren and the Portrayal of Masculinity in Star Wars, which I highly recommend checking out. (See Notes for summary).
> 
> Also, thank you to Blackeyedlily for your comment that helped a lot in writing about Luke and Ben’s relationship.
> 
> Thanks again for reading!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BRIEF SUMMARY OF LOTS/SWC PODCAST HIGHLIGHTS:
> 
> 1\. Son/Sun analogy: Starkiller Base, which absorbs the energy of the sun is an analogy for what Snoke is doing to Kylo, and destroying the Oscillator parallels everyone’s efforts to destroy Snoke’s control over Kylo (Han not successful, Rey successful).
> 
> 2\. In terms of story telling symbols, Kylo is also the captured royal (princess who needs to be rescued).
> 
>  
> 
> PSYCHOLOGY HIGHLIGHTS:
> 
> 1\. SWC: Kylo Ren and the Portrayal of Masculinity in Star Wars
> 
> Kylo is trying to kill Ben Solo (weak, foolish, and good part of himself) when he kills Han. Thinks it will make him stronger, actually makes him weaker.
> 
>  
> 
> Freud: Castration Fear of boys. Subconsciously fear father will kill you, so imitate him / ally with him.
> 
> Kylo killing Han, ultimate failed resolution of castration fear. (Also of note, father figure Luke did actually try to kill Ben).
> 
> \--------
> 
> 2\. Heinz Kohut's self psychology model (LOTS Podcast: Psychology of the Characterization: Kylo Ren)
> 
> Narcissistic Traits (NOT Narcissistic Personality Disorder)
> 
> I believe I have a core flaw that is unbearable (does not have to be true but I believe it is).
> 
> In response I build a hard outer shell (narcissistic projection) that is magnificent (outward exaggerated self worth) to conceal what I perceived is the flaw. I don’t want anyone to know about the flaw, and I myself don’t want to consciously know about it.
> 
> When I experience a slight that is confirming to me my biggest fear and perceive my flaw will be “found out” (by others or brought to my conscious’ attention) this causes me anxiety and a great deal of distress, resulting in a rageful outburst.
> 
> Anger is more acceptable than being sad, and is also how I communicate my needs are not being met.
> 
> My core need is for validation and love.
> 
> \----
> 
> BEN (narcissistic projection --> KYLO REN)
> 
> TRAUMA: Neglect, parental (emotional) abandonment, uncle tried to murder him.
> 
> CORE BELIEF (perceived “flaw”): Ben believes he is unlovable, weak (“never be as strong as Darth Vader), and nothing (“You’re nothing”).
> 
> EVIDENCE of “flaw/weakness” (leads actively trying to avoid being “found out,” by other and own conscious awareness. In Ben’s case fueled heavily by Snoke): Goodness, good heart (“weak and foolish like his father . . . you have your father’s heart”), attraction to the Light, his remaining inner light. (of note: opposite of Vader).
> 
> NARCISSISTIC INJURY: Unable tolerate reminders of his family’s rejection / rejection / reminders of his weakness and nothingness without lashing out.
> 
> \- Reminder of his family (San Tekka) --> kills San Tekka  
> \- Evidence of attraction to the Light, goodness in his heart, failure with Rey, weak “child in a mask” (Snoke in throne room) --> Smashes mask in turbolift, jumps in starfighter to blow things up.  
> \- Rey’s rejection (throne room): Battle of Crait meltdown
> 
> DEFENSIVE CONSTRUCT: While I fervently hope Kylo goes to Vader’s Castle as a warped place of refuge and safety, I think Kylo’s own defensive construct is actually the Knights of Ren. I don’t know if they will be used that way in IX, but I can definitely see the Knights trying to kill Rey to “protect” Kylo.

 

 

 

**Chapter 8: “Let the Past Die—Kill It if You Have To”**

 

 

Although Snoke alone was privy to the irony, the First Order was misleadingly named . . . because the Supreme Leader’s ultimate objective had nothing to do with order.

 

Unlike Palpatine, whose ambition was personal power and aggrandizement, Snoke’s true aim was a victory of the Dark for its own sake. The reward for his service was immortality—after a fashion—or at least the knowledge of how to endlessly cheat death.

 

Although few could comprehend the depravity of his true nature, the serpentine humanoid was a malevolent force of chaos, who wove his illusions under the cover of night, and delighted in fostering fear and inner sickness in the young . . . while he fed off their life-force.

 

He had lost count of how many apprentices he had run through over the centuries, although he admittedly went through them faster the further he distanced himself from what should have been the natural end of his mortal life.

 

He originally attributed Palpatine having Vader as the same apprentice for two decades additional evidence of the Emperor's inferior powers with the dark side. Once Snoke had his hands on Vader’s grandson, however, he realized that was only partially true. The strength of the power Snoke siphoned off Kylo was raw and intoxicating—and while the boy certainly was not going to last as long in his apprentice role as his grandfather had—for the first time in recent memory Snoke felt himself growing stronger and more powerful, and not simply staving off death.

 

Consequently, the Supreme Leader had no interest in his current relationship with the young Force user being disrupted.

 

Snoke had spent millennia in the service of the Dark, and at the present time in history only one thing could stop him from continuing his diabolical pursuits: the rise of the New Jedi and the rebalancing of the Force.

 

Preventing the refounding of the Jedi, therefore, quickly became Snoke’s obsession. His successful entrapment of Ben Solo—after the boy had destroyed Skywalker’s fledgling Jedi training temple no less—had gone a long way to safeguarding all his evil efforts.

 

But Snoke was well aware that his victories were not yet permanent—one only needed a passing knowledge of the late Emperor Palpatine’s rise and abrupt fall to understand that—and the Supreme Leader’s heightened vigilance to any threat corresponded to his fear.

 

 

And Snoke was afraid.

 

 

Although he believed himself far superior to Palpatine in every way, Snoke was, nevertheless, maligned by the same fears that secretly gripped the hearts of all tyrants—that some unforeseen nobody would rise out of nowhere and negate all that he had labored for so long to accomplish.

 

Underestimated nobodies, however, were the least of Snoke’s concerns at the moment—because powerful known enemies were still at large.

 

 

_Skywalker._

 

 

The last of the Jedi was the logical choice for the long anticipated Champion of the Light, and Snoke had no interest in waiting around for Skywalker to reappear and undo the fruits of his considerable labors.

 

“If Skywalker returns, the New Jedi will rise,” Snoke pounded into Kylo for the umpteenth time.

 

The Supreme Leader had done everything in his power to press upon his apprentice the primacy of making sure Skywalker never returned. First and foremost by ensuring the Resistance did not locate the Jedi Master, but then more definitively by having Kylo finish the purge that his Jedi Killer grandfather had started . . . by finding Skywalker and killing him.

 

 

Kylo, however, was destined to repeatedly fail Snoke in this, as he had first done so by not actually killing his old mentor before leaving the training temple. The Supreme Leader reserved his most vicious tongue-lashings for such occasions, which were accompanied by jolts of blue lighting straight to the young Force user’s chest.

 

“Skywalker lives! The seed of the Jedi Order lives! As long as he does hope lives in the galaxy!” Snoke would one day scream at Kylo for again failing him in this most vital of matters.

 

The Supreme Leader always kept explanations of his logic regarding the last Jedi intentionally vague to hide his principal reasons for wanting Skywalker dead . . . and the truth that Skywalker was not actually the Seed of the New Jedi Order or the Hope.

 

No, those titles belonged to the Heir of the Chosen One—the Heir of Anakin Skywalker.

 

Snoke was, therefore, certainly not going to disclose his concerns of exactly how the New Jedi would rise if Skywalker returned to anyone—particularly not to his apprentice who himself was in fact that heir.

 

The young Force user was the linchpin in the present conflict, and in this round of the epic struggle between the Light of the living Force and the Dark. Either the New Vader Kylo Ren would continue to secure victories for Dark and provide the power Snoke was currently enjoying to fend off death, or Ben Solo would shift the tide in favor of the Light and rebalance the Force.

 

There was no middle ground.

 

As much as the Supreme Leader ranted and raved about Luke Skywalker, therefore, it was Ben Solo who ultimately remained Snoke’s greatest adversary, and who posed the greatest threat—and Snoke kept the boy closer than he would have had he been purely his ally.

 

Using his apprentice as the unwitting agent to snuff out all avenues of hope for his own redemption added an additionally twisted layer to the present situation—but it was the kind of ironic scenario in which Snoke took delight.

 

 

To all outward appearances Snoke had succeeded in his goal of not having Vader’s grandson as his enemy. But that is all it really was—an appearance of victory.

 

Although he had inherited Vader’s darkness, within himself Ben Solo’s own light had risen to meet and balance it.

 

Furthermore, as strong as the dark side was in Ben Solo so too was the Light—which was additionally strengthened by the exercise of his free will. Ben Solo had remained incorruptible for so long by virtue of his consistent choice towards the Light, which Snoke himself had unwittingly and ironically increased in Ben as fighting against everything Snoke threw at him throughout his life had further strengthened Ben’s resolve.

 

Therefore, while copious amounts of work and opportunistic manipulation of circumstance that had gone into seducing Ben Solo to the dark side, Snoke knew it would not take as much effort to flip him back to his originally chosen path on the Light.

 

Snoke resultantly took every opportunity to beat the boy over the head with the lie that he did not have any real choices.

 

 

Furthermore, while Kylo remained on the dark side, maintaining control over him was still a delicate process. Snoke wanted him to increase his power in the dark side so Snoke could siphoned it—but not to become too strong or apprentice would become an imminent threat to master.

 

Like the oscillator on the Starkiller weapon, Snoke knew he had to keep careful control over Kylo’s mind for the boy’s power in the Force to continue to be compressed into an exploitable tool for keeping the Supreme Leader alive. Just as a failed oscillator would result in a supernova engulfing Starkiller, so to Kylo’s power would blow up in Snoke’s face if the Supreme Leader failed to maintain his dominance.

 

In spite of Snoke’s vigilance, preserving his influence over his apprentice was a dicey affair.

 

While stromtrooper FN 2187’s act of high treason would come without warning, Kylo repeatedly showed signs of non-conformity with his programming, and he required infuriatingly endless rounds of reconditioning. Furthermore, although trying his best to adopt his grandfather’s Vaderisms, it went against his nature, and a furious Snoke could tell Kylo’s heart was not fully in it.

 

In particular, his apprentice’s bouts of mercy and compassion drove Snoke absolutely crazy. They were evidence that Ben Solo was still not quite gone. Until he was there was still hope that the boy could be turned and all of Snoke’s efforts could be undone. Kylo was also not half a man confined to a living coffin as his grandfather had been—if he turned there was still the possibility of Anakin’s original destiny being fulfilled.

 

 

And no matter what Snoke did, Ben Solo refused to die.

 

 

Ben knew he was running out of time. Soon the words he would one day tell his father would actually be true, and like the sun used to fuel Starkiller Base, Ben Solo would be really gone. But until that happened the part of him that was still Ben, who had been fighting Snoke his entire life and had developed a high degree of resiliency, was not going down without a fight no matter how many rounds he had lost over the last several years. Like a caged animal, even when the bars got increasingly thick, he never stopped searching for a way out or waiting for his jailer to make a mistake.

 

 

Snoke knew that the Force too would not give Ben Solo up to the dark side without a fight. The Light was obnoxiously determined, and Snoke had long waited for its Champion—Kylo’s equal in the light—to show up and try to take back Ben Solo. Likely it was Skwalker—who due to Palpatine’s stupidity and miscalculation had become the Redeemer of Vader.

 

 

Snoke would be damned if he would let his own Vader be redeemed.

 

 

The Supreme Leader planned to permanently end that possibility by having Kylo kill the Champion of the Light, thereby eliminating the possibility of Ben Solo being turned, and which would solidify the young Force user’s place in the dark side. To his credit, Snoke had avoided Palpatine’s mistake, and not underestimating family ties had more than prepared Kylo to kill his uncle.

 

 

But Skywalker was not the Light’s chosen Champion.

 

 

The serpentine humanoid had to laugh when in time he realized the Champion of the Light was not the last Jedi but a gullible maiden, barely trained in the ways of the Force. Skywalker of course would still have to be killed lest after the girl was dead the Light chose to send him instead—the Light of the living Force was maddeningly persistent as Snoke had learned over the millennia.

 

Rather than heeding the warning that his apprentice was strongly taken with this current embodiment of the Light, however, Snoke was relieved, and believed he could manipulate Kylo’s emotions in this new way as Palpatine—master manipulator of human sentiment—had done with Anakin.

 

In the end, however, Snoke succumbed to the fate of all tyrants.

 

The fully human Palpatine had made manipulating Anakin’s love for Padme look easy. The serpentine humanoid would one day learn that in the arena of romantic love he was not Palapine . . . and Kylo was not his grandfather.

 

In a fatal miscalculation of his own, Snoke died on the edge of Anakin’s lightsaber blade wielded by Ben Solo—truly his greatest enemy.

 

 

But that day had not yet come, and with Starkiller Base nearing completion, Snoke was content to scream at Kylo to find and kill Luke Skywalker.

 

 

\--------------------------------

 

 

Kylo had been with the First Order almost five years, and being trapped in an environment that was not conducive to sanity was taking a cumulative toll. It was no longer difficult to summon the anger to throw a Vader-like temper tantrum.

 

There was also nothing about which Kylo did not feel conflicted. He felt like he was literally being torn apart.

 

After watching his mother’s life be consumed by the bickering inefficiencies of the New Republic Senate, Kylo did not disagree with the principals of the First Order. If it was not for Snoke, Hux, and their weapons of mass destruction, Kylo would feel confident in presently being on the right side of history. The part of him that now believed everything was relative and justifiable for the noble end game did not care one-way or the other. The diminishing part of him that still believed in the concept of right and wrong, however, was resentful that being good had not stopped him from being kicked out of his family.

 

In the end he cast aside his moral compass in favor of a more nihilistic attitude.

 

With his memories making them ever present, the role his parents continued to play in Kylo’s life caused similar conflict. Furthermore, just as even after his parents had thrown him away like garbage he still loved them, Kylo simultaneously hated Snoke but could not stop needing him. He remembered the Supreme Leader’s words that had convinced him to come and pledge himself to his teachings, but could no longer remember how in the galaxy they had worked.

 

Kylo desperately wished he had never come to Snoke, but he lacked the strength to stand on his own, and he felt powerless to get out from under his master’s control and leave the First Order. Part of his future proposition on Starkiller to be Rey’s teacher was a genuine offer to teach her the ways of the Force in the hopes that if they were both strong enough then together they could defeat Snoke—Snoke who was happy to keep Kylo in conflict and neutralized as a threat to the Supreme Leader’s life and authority.

 

But even if Kylo did leave the First Order he still did not know where he would go and what he would do.

 

He heard through the rumor mill that his father had left his mother . . . and then lost the _Falcon_. Even if his parents would somehow take him back, his family physically no longer existed to which him could return.

 

Without Artoo Kylo also found a new depth to his loneliness. Superior to even the highest-ranking officers, he was not eating in the officer’s mess. Kylo also certainly was not dinning with Hux. He, furthermore, did not actually enjoy the Knight’s company, and when he had a choice—as he usually did—Kylo preferred to eat alone in his quarters as he had for most of his life.

 

Left alone, he talked a great deal to his grandfather’s mask, which Snoke had given him but repeatedly refused to tell him where it had been found. Kylo felt his grandfather was his only confidant and aid, and to Vader’s mask he poured out his heart—even if his grandfather never spoke back.

 

Kylo was lonely and miserable, but was too afraid to leave.

 

 

Adding to his already heavy burden, the humiliating weakness and vulnerability that he had experienced on the night his uncle had tried to kill him, Kylo now experience on a regular basis at the hands of his new master. It was a psychologically unbearable situation, and Kylo searched with increasing desperation for a way to escape.

 

Taking his anger and aggression out on others by destructively flashing his lighsaber around provided only temporary relief. Nor was this a problem Kylo could solve by jumping into his Silencer and blowing things up.

 

Kylo initially hoped that growing stronger in the dark side of the Force and becoming the New Vader Snoke wanted him to become would bring an end to the conflict and humiliation. However, after years in the service of First Order, part of Kylo knew deep down that Snoke was never going to help him reach his full potential, and it remained elusively out of reach. Kylo also came to realize that allying himself with Snoke would not prevent him from being routinely emasculated—and he began to contemplate other solutions to his problem.

 

Even if Kylo could find him, Master Skywalker was certainly never going to help him. His uncle after all had feared his power and tried to kill him.

 

His father had not made Kylo feel emasculated while he was growing up, but his father was also never around—and the rejection of his son Han’s neglect conveyed had done its own damage. Han Solo was also not Force sensitive, and his son had eventually figured out he was not strong enough to protect him from Snoke—no one was. His father was weak, foolish, and did not have any degree of strength with the Force. Kylo came to realized that in idolizing and emulating his father, Ben Solo had been just as inept.

 

No, in this situation no one was going to help Kylo become a man and fulfill his destiny. As usual he was going to have to rescue and raise himself.

 

 

For guidance all Kylo had left was the example of his grandfather . . . Vader who had destroyed the institution that raised him.

 

 

Looking into the mirror one night, Kylo finally spoke out loud to his reflection the solution to his predicament. “Let the past die—kill it if you have to. It’s the only way to become who you were meant to be.” In the reflection of his eyes, Kylo saw deep belief and conviction that his words were true.

 

To fulfill his destiny Kylo had to let his past and liberate himself from the influence of his parental figures—if necessary by killing them.

 

With Vader’s example the next leap in logic soon followed: it was necessary, and was the only way forward . . . he had to kill his fathers.

 

 

With Kylo’s lack of mental privacy from Snoke, master soon learnt of the apprentice’s plan. To Kylo’s surprise Snoke fully validated Kylo’s belief in the necessity of killing his fathers—as usual manipulating Kylo’s motivations for the Supreme Leader’s own endgame to push Kylo further into the Dark, and fulfill Snoke’s order to kill the elusive Jedi Master.

 

And when it was down to just Snoke and Kylo . . .

 

Well, Snoke with his superior Force power, blue lightning, and Praetorian guard was confident he could survive crossing that bridge when they came to it.

 

 

 

Kylo, meanwhile, began to seriously contemplate his plan and steel his resolve.

 

Finding motivation to kill his master was not a problem—Kylo hated Snoke and always had. He formerly loved his uncle, which made his current hatred burn all the more intensely. No the problem was Han Solo—his father whom he still loved.

 

As he embarked on this path, it occurred to Kylo that maybe he would not have to kill his father to accomplish crossing the threshold into manhood. Maybe killing his uncle would be enough. So Kylo threw himself into accomplishing the goal in which both master and apprentice were united: finding and killing Luke Skywalker.

 

In this task Kylo was not without leads. Luke had likely continued his search for and found the first Jedi Temple. His uncle may believe he had found an unfindable place to hole up and wallow in his failure, but Kylo had no intention of letting the Jedi Master die of natural causes.

 

He intensified his search.

 

Long in possession of the First Order’s slice codes for the Imperial archives, Kylo was by then quite adept at making his way around the records, and found the Empire’s copy of a partial map to the first Jedi Temple. If anyone had already found the rest of the map and had a likely hand in the Jedi Master’s vanishing act, Kylo knew it would be his uncle’s old friend and associate the Force relic hunter Lor San Tekka.

 

Tracking down the old explorer and the rest of the Church of the Force, who had not been on Yavin 4 when their companions met their end on the edge of Kylo’s lightsaber blade, was difficult but not impossible. Soon in possession of several leads, the warlord of the First Order sent the other Knights of Ren to various parts of the galaxy, with the strict instructions to keep San Tekka alive until Kylo arrived should they be the one to find him.

 

Kylo, however, kept the most promising lead for himself—a small village on Jakku. He had acquired the village’s probably location just as the First Order had intercepted a message from San Tekka to his mother offering her the map. With the a vital piece of the puzzle to locate Skywalker within his grasp, Kylo and his task force, which unfortunately included Hux, had streaked off to Jakku.

 

 

 

To all outward appearance Jakku was a nothing desert planet in the Western Reaches.

 

But its desolate appearance was deceptive.

 

As with Yavin 4, to history and to the Force Jakku was a place of some significance. The Battle of Jakku was waged in the sky above the desolate planet, and that was where the Empire and finally died.

 

The Force was also strangely dampened, something which Kylo had noticed immediately as the task force entered the atmosphere. The Force dampening became even stronger as his raptor-like command shuttle descended into the primitive village and he disembarked.

 

The strike team he had sent on ahead had already pacified the villager’s resistance, and Kylo marched down the shuttle’s gangplank and into the center of the encampment where he came face to face with his quarry.

 

“Look how old you've become,” Kylo said, renewing his acquaintance with one of his least favorite people in the galaxy.

 

“Something far worse has happened to you,” San Tekka replied.

 

“You know what I've come for.”

 

“I know where you come from. Before you called yourself Kylo Ren.”

 

Not wishing to get sucked into a discussion of the past, Kylo cut to the chase, “The map to Skywalker. We know you've found it, and now you're going to give it to the First Order.”

 

“The First Order rose from the dark side . . . you did not,” San Tekka said, clearly unable to help himself from launching into one of his usual lectures.

 

“I'll show you the dark side,” Kylo warned.

 

“You may try, but you can not deny the truth that is your family,” San Tekka condescendingly replied.

 

The arrogant outsider who believed he knew everything there was to know about his family—a family that San Tekka seemingly forgot included Vader—had always infuriated him, and Kylo decided the old man had struck that nerve for the last time.

 

“You're so right.”

 

Sensing he had arrived second but that the map was still nearby, Kylo ignited his red lightsaber above both of their heads and cut the old man down—silencing him from expressing further patronizing words, which Kylo had already put up with for far too long.

 

 

The next step of finding whomever his mother had sent to get the map from the now thankfully silent San Tekka proved to not take long.

 

Kylo felt the disturbance in the Force a split second before the blaster bolt left the riffle’s muzzle, and with an outstretched hand Kylo froze it in midair . . . along with the body of the unwise shooter. A pair of stormtroopers roughly grabbed the man and tossed him at Kylo’s feet.

 

As Kylo crouched down, he finally found himself face to face with the famous Poe Dameron.

 

“So who talks first? You talk first?” Poe said with brash defiance, immediately living up to his reputation.

 

Kylo confirmed by cursory mindprobe what he already knew—that San Tekka had given the map to Poe—and ordered stormtroopers to search the X-wing pilot.

 

All the while Poe demonstrated his lack of fear by making a crack about Kylo’s mask. “It's just very hard to understand you with all the . . . apparatus.”

 

Kylo knew Vader would have never stood for such insolence. But killing Poe outright would complicate finding the map, and Kylo remained patient. If Poe’s initial brashness was anything to judge by, the interrogation process would naturally progress to Kylo making Poe pay dearly for the remark and any other crimes he had recently committed.

 

He contented himself, therefore, with ordering the Resistance pilot be taken into custody aboard his command shuttle. Poe’s own ship was soon searched, and found to not contain the map.

 

It was with great satisfaction that Kylo watched Poe’s black X-wing explode into a fireball out of the corner of his eye.

 

Phasma had then asked him what to do with the Church of the Force villagers. His emotions raw and enraged after too many mentions of his family for one day, and remembering their many unkindnesses to him while he was growing up, Kylo had reflexively given the order to kill them all—although wished he could recall the words the second they were out of his mouth. In the end he had to settle for not turning in the stormtrooper who had not carried out the orders he wished he had not given, as he released Poe’s blaster bolt and strode back aboard his command shuttle.

 

 

Aboard the _Finalizer_ , Poe’s interrogation proceeded exactly as Kylo expected. He remains defiantly silent as the stormtroopers assigned to soften him up delivered their blows. Kylo knew from his research of the archives of the Empire that an Interrogation droid could have extracted more information—there would also not be much of Poe left after the droid was done. The description of a full Imperial interrogation was something that Kylo had not been able to stomach, which was why the First Order did not use the droids—even if that often left the dirtiest work for him to do himself.

 

Soon it was Kylo’s turn to interrogate Poe Dameron.

 

The room was in darkness, except for the case that displayed instruments of torture, and a dim spotlight on the reclined interrogation table to which Poe was secured. The appearance of Poe’s dashing and overly attractive face was only slightly marred by the gashes and dried blood from the stormtroopers’ blows. The pilot looked somewhat peaceful as he slept, and Kylo had no interest in letting Poe go on sleeping.

 

The Poe came too at the sound of the deep mechanical voice. The hooded figure of Kylo Ren slowly approached his prisoner through the shadows before the warlord stopped a few feet away to tower over the best pilot in the Ben Solo-less Resistance.

 

“I'm impressed,” Kylo said menacingly, “No one has been able to get out of you what you _did_ with the map.”

 

“Might wanna rethink your technique,” Poe replied, still full of defiant bravado.

 

Kylo raised a hand towards the pilot’s head and obligingly complied with Poe’s foolish request.

 

Poe began to flinch with pain, and his breaths became labored as he attempted to resist Kylo’s mindprobe. Kylo usually avoided performing full mindprobes whenever possible, which he disliked doing immensely. Poe, however, was cocky and arrogant, and as Kylo slammed his head against the interrogation table and entered Poe’s mind, he realized he hated doing it less than usual.

 

Once inside, Kylo found everything as he had expected. Poe was the embodiment of everything he hated and could not compete with about the Resistance. He was quickly flooded by Poe’s memories of his mother. Lots and lots of memories, from all the time Poe had spent around her as her protégé and surrogate son. At the same time Kylo also saw that Poe was brash, irresponsible, and had a disobedient streak. Poe had, and likely would again, gotten the Resistance into trouble that Ben Solo never would have. Yet this was the man his mother preferred as her son over her own flesh and blood. Maybe Poe reminded her of Han more than her dutiful and uncomplainingly obedient actual son had. Kylo did not know, and the train of thought was making him increasingly upset and angry on top of San Tekka’s verbal barbs.

 

What was not readily available in Poe’s mind, however, was the location of the map.

 

“Where is it?” Kylo asked again.

 

“The Resistance will not be intimidated by you,” Poe clung to his defiance even amidst the pain.

 

“Where . . . _is it_?” Kylo hissed. The increased intensity of his voice matching the increase in power he was now using on the Resistance pilot.

 

Poe continued to resist in a way that Kylo knew was absolutely excruciating. The brash pilot was strong willed, but was ultimately no match for Kylo’s powers with the Force. Poe gave out a long drawn-out scream of agony as Kylo smashed through the deepest of his mental barriers, and gained access to Poe’s most closely guarded secrets.

 

His mother and the rest of the Resistance were holed up on D'Qar in the Ileenium system.

 

Snoke would eventually find it in his mind, Kylo knew that, but until then Kylo kept what he found to himself. There were many crimes he routinely committed of which he previously thought himself incapable. But there were still limits, and voluntarily giving up his mother to Snoke and Hux was something he simply would not do.

 

Thankfully finding the map to Skywalker took priority over locating the Resistance base. The map that was . . . in an orange and white BB model astromech droid, which Poe had left back on Jakku.

 

Having finally found the information he needed, Kylo was happy to be leaving Poe’s mind and all of the reminders that Poe had lived the life Ben Solo had wanted and was denied.

 

With Kylo’s exit from his mind, Poe immediately blacked out from the pain. Kylo for his part strode out of the interrogation chamber without giving the other man a second glance.

 

 

\--------------------------------

 

 

Hux was waiting just outside the interrogation suite, and Kylo immediately ran into him as he strode out of the room.

 

“It’s in a droid. A BB unit,” Kylo informed Hux.

 

“Well then. If it’s on Jakku we’ll soon have it,” Hux said with smug confidence.

 

Kylo, however, did not want to go back to strangely Force dampened planet. Having spent too long without the company of Artoo, Kylo convinced himself that acquiring one little droid rolling around in the sand was a task even Hux could not screw up.

 

“I leave that to you,” Kylo delegated to the general, before heading back to his quarters.

 

It did not take long for him to regret that decision as subsequent events soon proved Kylo was gravely mistaken when it came to the depths of Hux’s incompetence.

 

In his quarters Kylo was making an unsuccessful attempt to calm down after his recent encounters and the unpleasant reminders of his family, when he felt a sudden seismic disturbance in the Force.   He emerged to fine the Star Destroy in a flurry of chaotic activity, and hastily made his way to the bridge. With a sinking feeling Kylo knew before he arrived that all the commotion could only mean one thing: Poe Dameron.

 

“General Hux. Is it the Resistance pilot?” Kylo asked Hux as he entered the bridge, already knowing what the answer would be.

 

“Yes, and he had help—from one of our own. We're checking the registers now to identify which Stormtrooper it was,” Hux confirmed, appearing to be surprisingly calm under the circumstances.

 

“The one from the village . . . FN-2187,” Kylo said, deep frustration beginning to boil in him that sparing the stormtrooper’s life had led to this fiasco.

 

With Lieutenant Mitaka’s assurances that the ventral cannons were on line, Hux gave the order to blow the escapee’s rogue TIE out of the sky. The _Finalizer’s_ gunners managed a partial hit, resulting in what was left of the starfighter crashing into the desert. Hux ordered a squadron of stormtroopers sent to the wreckage to savage whatever they could find.

 

Kylo did not particularly care if the traitor stormtrooper and escaped pilot survived the crash or not. He did, however, still care a great about the droid, and knew that a task as important as recovering the mechanical sphere he really should have overseen it himself. Kylo by that point deeply regretted his momentary lapse in judgment in delegating the job to Hux . . . who was not giving control back to Kylo.

 

And whenever possible, Hux preferred to handle things the easy way, especially when he got to blow things up.

 

“Supreme Leader Snoke was explicit. Capture the droid if we can, but destroy it if we must,” Hux calmly rationalized.

 

“How capable are your soldiers, General?” Kylo said, his attempt at a civil debate rapidly becoming futile.

 

“I won't have you question my methods,” Hux snapped.

 

“They're obviously skilled at committing high treason. Perhaps Leader Snoke should consider using a clone army.”

 

The ginger haired General had a wide array of easily poked nerves, and this was one of them.

 

“My men are _exceptionally trained_ , _programmed from birth_ -”

 

“Then they should have no problem retrieving the droid—unharmed.”

 

“Careful, Ren. That your ‘personal interests’ not interfere with orders from Leader Snoke,” Hux calmly switched tacks.

 

“I want that map,” Kylo responded, towering threateningly over Hux and getting into his face, “For your sake, I suggest you get it.”

 

Kylo did not care what Snoke had said. If Hux destroyed the map to Skywalker Kylo was going to kill him. Kylo felt Hux sending daggers of hatred into his back as he stormed off the bridge, unable to bear one more second in Hux’s presence.

 

 

 

Having relinquished command of the operation, Kylo was left alone to await news.

 

It was then that he felt it—a sudden awakening in the Force. As if a Force sensitive who had previously been hidden, likely by the Force dampening effect he himself had experienced on Jakku, had abruptly left that protection and immediately reached his awareness . . . and likely also his master’s.

 

He was trying to make sense of what had just occurred when Lieutenant Mitaka—of course it was Mitaka—approached with the latest report. Kylo knew before the sweating subordinate even opened his mouth the news was not good.

 

“Sir, we were unable to acquire the droid on Jakku.” Threw numerous rounds of their present dance, Mitaka had learnt it was best to just spite out whatever he had come to relay. “It escaped capture aboard a stolen Corellian YT model freighter.”

 

_No, it couldn’t be . . ._

 

“The droid . . . stole a freighter?” Kylo answered in his most incredulous and unamused tone.

 

“Not exactly, sir. It had help.” Kylo turned to fully face the squirming officer, who finished his report in a rush his voice no longer steady, “We have no confirmation, but we believe FN-2187 may have helped in the escape-”

 

Accustomed to the end of one of his bad reports being interrupted by the sound of Kylo igniting his lightsaber, Mitaka shut his eyes tight and began to wince a split second before Kylo laid into the console behind him. Even then the young officer could not help himself from periodically opening his eyes to be mesmerized by the horrible sight and sound of the lightsaber ripping deep gashes into the electronics, before again shutting them and cowering away from the shower of sparks.

 

Kylo was furious.

 

He was furious with Hux. He was furious with the traitor stormtrooper. He was furious with Poe Dameron, San Tekka, his mother, and the little astromech droid with the map. Most of all he was furious with himself for failing to remember that in this most vital of matters if wanted something done right he had to do it himself.

 

Well, at least Hux’s incompetence had extended to failing to destroy the droid as well as capture it.

 

Kylo extinguished his lightsaber, and turning again to Mitaka inquired with an unnerving degree of calm, “Anything else?”

 

Still terrified, Mitaka had no choice but to blurt out, “The two were accompanied by a girl.”

 

 

_The girl._

 

 

With a sudden violent motion Kylo dragged Mitaka towards him with the Force, the tips of the officer’s shoes dragging on the ground, until Mitaka’s throat met the black glove of his outstretched hand.

 

“What girl?” Kylo demanded.

 

Mitaka annoyingly but not unsurprisingly had no further information, and Kylo released him and allowed him to flee his presence. He watched Mitaka scurry away in his usual mixture of haste and dignity befitting an officer of the First Order, away to sooth his fried nerves, but as usual free of injuries that required medical attention.

 

The droid having slipped through their collective fingers and the network of First Order spies put on the alert, there was nothing left to do but return to Starkiller Base and await news.

 

 

Somehow Kylo managed to mercifully not spend a single second in Hux’s presence the entire trip back to base.

 

 

\------------------------------

 

 

Upon arriving back at Starkiller, Kylo and Hux had been immediately summoned to an audience with Snoke. The Supreme Leader was aboard the _Supremacy_ and the First Order lieutenants found themselves interacting with a twenty-five foot hologram rather than Snoke in the flesh. Kylo often thought the fact that Snoke had a twenty-five foot hologram of himself built into the communications suite of Starkiller said an awful lot about the Supreme Leader.

 

 

With the droid likely enroute to the Resistance, Snoke was, to put is mildly, not happy.

 

In a disingenuous display of leadership accountability, Hux—who did not really care about the map in the first place—had taken “full responsibility” for the droid’s escape. Ignoring the fact that he was in fact genuinely at fault, Hux’s admission was part of his calculated plan for a much bigger prize: permission to use the at last complete Starkiller superweapon.

 

With a feeling of cold dread settling in his heart, Kylo listened to Snoke grant Hux permission to destroy the entire Hosnian system that housed the Republic—and Kylo’s home.

 

And with Snoke having bestowed his perverse blessing, there was nothing Kylo could do but turn and meet Hux’s gaze— bitterly promising himself the paltry consolation that someday he would make Hux pay for destroying his homeworld.

 

 

With Hux’s cocksure departure, Snoke had turned his full attention to Kylo.

 

“There's been an awakening. Have you felt it?” Snoke asked.

 

“Yes,” Kylo answered his master.

 

“There's something more,” Snoke continued with news that was new to Kylo, “The droid we seek is aboard the _Millennium Falcon_. In the hands of your father, Han Solo.”

 

Kylo felt his heart seize with panic, sensing his plan to find and kill his uncle before crossing paths with his father beginning to disintegrate.

 

“He means nothing to me,” Kylo answered Snoke. Both of them knew it was not true, but Kylo wished fervently that saying the words would make it so.

 

 

 

So began a series of previously uncharacteristic lies to himself and others.

 

 

 

As Kylo marched towards the _Finalizer,_ skipping whatever insane speech Hux would give at Starkiller’s inauguration to resume his suddenly more desperate and complicated hunt for the map. Once aboard, Kylo began contemplating the rapidly shifting landscape set in motion by recent events.

 

Something was happening.

 

The _Falcon_ had been found . . . and was again in his father’s possession.

 

As was the droid with the map to Skywalker—crucial to Kylo’s plans to find and kill his uncle before crossing paths with his father.

 

On top of all that, the awakening in the Force he had felt above Jakku—that explosion of Light—was affecting Kylo more than he wanted to admit.

 

Kylo’s nerves were fraying and his head was spinning. The mounting tension continued to be ratcheted up to a previously unknown degree. Although Kylo’s distress tolerance was usually quite substantial, the current stressors were quickly outpacing his coping mechanisms.

 

He soon found himself back in his quarters on the _Finalizer_ , again pouring his heart out to his grandfather’s mask.

 

“Forgive me. I feel it again. The pull to the light,” Kylo confessed.

 

The young Force user had always had a complicated relationship with his powers. But Kylo was now confronted with memories of a time when using his abilities had felt so much cleaner than they did now after year of steadily sliding further onto the dark side.

 

Although he was too far-gone to ever go back, Kylo had not been prepared for how startlingly alluring he still found the Light, and how much it would further increased his already unbearable inner conflict.

 

“Supreme Leader senses it,” Kylo continued a touch of apprehension and fear creeping into his voice. “Show me again, the power of the darkness, and I will let nothing stand in our way,” Kylo pled with urgency and desperation, “Show me . . . Grandfather . . . and I will finish what you started.”

 

As usual, the mask remained silent as it stared back at him.

 

 

\------------------------------

 

 

Done entrusting to others the task of capturing the droid with the map, Kylo was back on the hunt.

 

The tension he felt mounted exponentially when Hux activated Starkiller Base and blew up Kylo’s homeworld—emphasizing to Kylo he could not return to his childhood and that he was finally being irrevocably pushed towards the threshold into adulthood whether he liked it or not.

 

The threshold that required him to commit patricide to cross.

 

With some legendary Solo luck that was hopefully hereditary, Kylo clung to the possibility that he could get the droid and the map away from his father and still somehow avoid a confrontation.

 

This goal at the forefront of his mind, Kylo joined the rest of his task force converging on the Takokana castle tavern—equal parts of himself hoping his father and the droid would and would not still be there.

 

Although Han Solo was not Force sensitive, likely because he was his father Kylo could still sense Han through the Force, and even before he disembarked his command shuttle Kylo was assaulted by presence of his father.

 

Kylo found the fact that both the droid and the girl had taken off into the forest in completely the opposite direction from Han Solo to be extremely convenient, and set off after them. Even then, however, tamping down his anxiety grew steadily more difficult the more time Kylo spent in this close a proximity to the wayward smuggler.

 

Under more normal circumstances Kylo would have authorized the requested air support when the Resistance showed up. In contemplating new ground assault tactics, Kylo had also been wondering if he could bring down a starfighter with just his lightsaber, and this would have been the perfect opportunity to try. He would have then taken both girl and the droid into custody.

 

The longer Kylo stayed on Takodana, however, the greater to likelihood of the confrontation he unconsciously wished to avoid at all cost. Furthermore, a prickling sensation in the back of his mind alerted Kylo that, although she was not among the initial Resistance strike force, his mother was also on her way.

 

Although he had spent his entire childhood longing to be around both his parents at the same time, in that movement all Kylo wanted was to be nowhere near his father or his mother, let alone both of them together. To his conscious self, however, Kylo steadfastly fanned the flame of denial that his father’s presence—soon to be joined by his mother’s—had anything to do with his snap decision to grab Rey and rush away.

 

At one point he passed so near to Han Solo that if he turn his head he would have had a clear view of his father. Kylo did not look, but quickened his step back to his command shuttle—the unconscious Rey in his arms—and took off at full tilt back to base and away from his parents.

 

Back on Starkiller his plan to simply get the map from Rey had not gone well, but he consoled himself with what turned out to be false assurances that he had at least safely avoided his father.

 

He was in the middle of a frantic search for the escaped Rey when he again felt his father’s presence on the planet. A security alert soon followed for a ship that had crashed near the base itself.

 

How the _Falcon_ had gotten past the planetary shield Kylo had no idea. He was confident, however, that his father had probably done something insane like making the approach at lightspeed—trying something like that and actually pulling it off would be very Han Solo.

 

Leaving others to continue the search for Rey, Kylo lead a team out to the crashed ship, and soon found himself boarding the _Millennium Falcon_.

 

His father was long gone, but being in the cockpit brought back a flood of memories. Even the golden dice Kylo had played with as a child were hung in their proper place.

 

At that point Kylo pulled his team to head back inside the base. The _Falcon_ he had left intact and undisturbed—not being able to bring himself to damage or disable the ship he had once loved so much.

 

It was also the best way to ensure his father would leave . . . something Kylo desperately wanted Han Solo to immediately do.

 

Outside of the _Falcon_ Kylo had looked up to see that his father had succeeded in doing another the very Han Solo thing of disabling the planetary shield, and now the base was under attack.

 

A swarm of X-wings filled sky above the Oscillator—a strategically key target if the Resistance wanted to liberate the sun’s energy from the First Order’s control. Kylo wished Poe Dameron and the rest of the Resistance fighters luck, knowing there was no way they were going to penetrate the Oscillator from the outside with anything smaller than a capital ship, and that they would likely soon be overwhelmed by First Order TIEs.

 

The larger battle, however, held little more than a passing interest for Kylo. His job at present was to bring Rey to Snoke, and returning to the base he got back to it.

 

Kylo’s search for Rey eventually led him to the interior of the Oscillator. He could tell she was close by . . . but so was his father.

 

His father who was there to get Rey out and inflict his usual level of mayhem.

 

His father who was no doubt setting detonators to blow up the facility from the inside since the fighters outside were having so little success—another very Han Solo move.

 

As long as he was not still on it when the planet exploded, Kylo genuinely did not care if his father blew up all of Starkiller Base—particularly when its next target was his mother—and said nothing to anyone inside the base. Kylo could not, however, let Rey get away. The legendary Han Solo may somehow manage to blow up the new Death Star, but his father was not going to be rescuing the princess this time.

 

The one blessing of her Force powers increasing exponentially by the minute was Kylo could by that point track her, and he could tell that Rey was outside and somewhere above.

 

With even more accuracy than with Rey, Kylo had also known exactly where his father was inside the Oscillator, at one point only a few feet away . . . and Kylo had deliberately walked in the other direction.

 

 

When faced with the moment, Kylo knew he simply could not do this. He could not confront his father.

 

 

But Han Solo had seen his son, and had other ideas.

 

 

“BEN!” Han’s voice echoed loudly in the large chamber.

 

 

Kylo was halfway across the catwalk when his father had called out to him, freezing him in his tracks. It was something out of his wildest dreams. In that moment Kylo knew that Han Solo was not just there for Rey or to help the Resistance, and the part of him that was still Ben Solo leapt for joy.

 

 

His father had come to rescue him.

 

 

After several heartbeats, Kylo turned around, fists tightly clenched as he tried unsuccessfully to stay calm.

 

“Han Solo. I've been waiting for this day for a long time,” Kylo lied.

 

As on Cloud City and the second Death Star, a father and son faced off on a catwalk over a seemingly endless drop. Somewhere above a blast door opened and a beam of fading sunlight shone down onto the two figures.

 

Han slowly walked forward, as if approaching an animal he did not want to spook, and cut the distance to his son in half before again stopping. It took every ounce of strength Kylo had to not turn and flee.

 

“Take off that mask. You don't need it,” Han barked.

 

“What do you think you'll see if I do?” Kylo replied, his voice sounding more mechanical than usual to his ears.

 

“The face of my son,” Han said.

 

Kylo could not remember ever hearing his father’s voice filled with so much emotion, and he hesitated. But as with Rey, after a moment he slowing raised his hands and unmasked for his father.

 

It had been a long time since they had stood across from each other, and for a few moments father and son just stared at the other’s face. For the first time in years Kylo looked upon his father with his own eyes. His father had aged a lot from the Han Solo of Kylo’s memories. Across from Kylo, Han’s breath quickened as he looked upon his son, at once the same face of the child he remembered and also much grown since the last time Han had laid eyes on him.

 

“Your son is gone,” Kylo said, his own voice sounding pathetic to his ears in contrast to the one filtered through his mask, “He was weak and foolish, like his father. So I destroyed him.”

 

Han slowly continued forward as he spoke, “That's what Snoke wants you to believe, but it's not true. My son is alive,” Han said, his voice filled with conviction.

 

“No. The Supreme Leader is wise.” Kylo answered. Even to his own ears he sounded brainwashed.

 

Han spoke again, as he took the last few steps to join his son in the center of the catwalk. As his father neared him Kylo reflexively flinched away. At that point he did not like anyone touching him.

 

“Snoke is using you for your power,” Han continued vehemently, “When he gets what he wants, he'll crush you—you know it's true.”

 

 

In the depth of his heart Kylo did.

 

 

“It's too late,” Kylo choked out, his voice full of his unvarnished pain and despair.

 

“No it's not. Leave here with me. Come home,” Han demanded with his usual gruffness, before adding with a note of tenderness, “We miss you.”

 

As Han spoke, the level of conflict inside of Kylo was ratcheted up to a truly excruciating level. His father’s words—that his parents loved and missed him—opened up a new possibility in Kylo’s mind: that everything that had happened between him and his family was all a giant misunderstanding.

 

_That is wasn’t too late and he could still go home._

 

 

Two diametrically opposed options stood before him.

 

The part of him that was still Ben Solo wanted to believe his father, to grab onto the lifeline he was being thrown, escape from Snoke’s clutches and leave the First Order—to stop being Kylo Ren, leave the insanity of what he had been reduced to, and reclaim his life.

 

From the outside that choice seemed simple—to just reach out, take his father’s hand, and let Han Solo rescue him as he had rescued his mother from the Death Star all those years ago.

 

But the prison he was trapped in had never been made out of steel. While Ben Solo wanted to believe his father and leave, Kylo Ren was still set on the patricidal path forward to freedom he had set for himself while looking in the mirror. To complicate matters, another deep and primitive part of psyche also unconsciously believed that in killing his real father standing before him, he could also kill his false and abusive father Snoke, and his uncle who had tried to kill him.

 

Unconsciously he also believed that the death of Han Solo likely could also bring about what Snoke had not been able to accomplish: the death of Ben Solo. With Ben Solo gone there would finally just be Kylo Ren. He would be finally free of the conflict that was cleaving him in two. He would finally have peace.

 

 

In that crucial moment the dark path that promised a quick end to his pain won out.

 

 

“I'm being torn apart. I want to be free of this pain,” Kylo confessed, his voice suddenly filled with vulnerability as tears stung his eyes.

 

He was what he had accused his father of being—weak, foolish, and crying. In great and tragic irony, Kylo also realized he really could not do this without his father’s help.

 

“I know what I have to do, but I don't know if I have the strength to do it. Will you help me?”

 

“Yes—anything,” Han promised, drawing even closer to his son.

 

Kylo dropped his mask, and it sounded loudly as it hit the metal of catwalk. He then unclipped his red lightsaber and held the handle out to his father.

 

Han Solo gripped the offer handle firmly, unknowingly holding the weapons steadily in place as his son’s hands trembled—Kylo gripping the saber so tightly he thought he might snap it in two. For several heartbeats father and son gazed intensely into each other’s eyes.

 

Suddenly the sunlight vanished, as Starkiller finished harvesting the now obliterated sun.

 

 

Without warning Kylo abruptly ignited his lightsaber—the red blade piercing the chest of his beloved father.

 

 

Kylo continued to stare into his father’s eye—eyes that were suddenly filled with shock.

 

“Thank you,” Kylo said in relief, letting the perverse words fall from his lips before roughly withdrawing the blade from his father’s chest.

 

The part of him that was Ben Solo screamed just as loudly as Rey when the red blade pierced his father’s chest. Ben was furious and absolutely beside himself.

 

Kylo also knew in that instant he had made a terrible, and irrevocable mistake.

 

Fueled by his displaced anger towards Snoke, Luke and himself, and still under Snoke’s spell, Kylo had believed killing is father would make him stronger. In reality his unforgivable act had only made him weaker . . . and deepened his despair.

 

 

In that darkest of moments, however, Light suddenly shone.

 

 

To Kylo’s utter shock, Han used the last moment of his life to look at his son with love and caress his face. Kylo saw in Han’s eyes that his father was forgiving him the unforgivable. Beyond that his father was actually accepting Kylo’s choice—that if his son really needed this, then Han chose it too.

 

As his father’s lifeless body fell into the abyss below, Kylo was completely stunned.

 

In spite of his famous “heart of gold,” Han Solo had led a remarkably selfish life. Unsurprising given his background, protecting his own interest was always his first impulse. While Chewbacca and the Falcon counted as part of himself—on a day-to-day basis his family did not. On some level Han too believed himself of little worth and most of the time unneeded by everyone including his wife and son. He resultantly chose to show up only when it was clear his presence was unquestionably required to avert galactic disaster—and wanted.

 

The story of Han Solo—who showed up to rescue the princess from mortal danger, before immediately taking off with his reward money, and who only returned to help save the day when it was again a matter of life or death—was perhaps the best way to sum up the smuggler turned reluctant hero, whose bravado masked the wounds and insecurities of an orphan.

 

True to type, however, Han Solo showed up for his son in his most desperate hour, and provided Kylo with an answer to his burning question.

 

Han showed his son a previously unseen path forward across the threshold into manhood. It was not a path Han had been able to walk or provide a personal example of to his son . . . except in his very last act.

 

 

The other path forward to becoming a man was a life of self-sacrifice.

 

 

This new path was certainly not quick, easy, or for the faint of heart. It would require Kylo become Ben Solo again, and to lay down all of his strength, his talents, and his power with the Force in the services of others. It was also a path that just might lead him out of the Dark and back into the Light.

 

In pondering the idea later, Kylo found it intriguing and somewhat attractive. He continued to believe, however, while it may be an option for others, it was not an available choice for him.

 

 

 

His uncle of course bore a great deal of responsibility for that . . . and for ruining his nephew’s life.

 

Luke had failed to protect him from Snoke, and failed to guide him in the complexities navigating his Force abilities and burden of their family legacy.

 

The Jedi Master had taught his nephew the futility of fighting the darkness—that giving into it was inevitable. And in the end felt Ben Solo’s powers were such a threat that Luke was justified in murdering his own nephew in his sleep.

 

 _That_ night had made Kylo vulnerable to finally going to Snoke, which was the worst mistake of his life—a mistake his father had later paid for with his. Kylo too had been paying for it ever since, and was still paying even after he killed Snoke to protect Rey.

 

 

Yes, all of this to a large degree was Luke Skywalker’s fault.

 

 

Kylo had not really wanted to kill his father, and was still deeply heartbroken he had. Killing his false father Snoke had actually been the right thing to do. But Kylo had one more father to kill in his quest to no longer need one—until the past was dead—and he burned for his uncle’s death with the white hot fire of revenge.

 

The young Force user had long sought out the Luke Skywalker with plans to exact vengeance. The long anticipated confrontation, however, was completely on the Jedi Master’s terms and ironically caught Kylo completely off guard.

 

On Crait, Kylo had been reeling. He had taken a huge risk with Rey and it has blown up in his face. Rey’s rejection had raised the reality of his unlovability to his conscious awareness—something he usually avoided at all costs—and in his pain he felt a rage that for once was all his own and not in imitation of Vader.

 

And in that very moment, who should appear but Luke Skywalker—his uncle who had given Kylo his most poignant lesson on just how unlovable he truly was.

 

 

Bathed in the glow of Crait’s late afternoon sunlight, Master Skywalker dramatically walked out of the flaming gash that the First Order cannon had punched into the Rebel Base’s shield door, and stared down the imposing sight of a dozen AT-M6 gorilla walkers with nothing but a lightsaber.

 

Although the older man was long the subject of Kylo’s futile searches, actually being in his uncle’s presence immediately triggered a flashback of Luke standing over him with a drawn lightsaber.

 

While outwardly he retained the appearance of control, his petulant furry was abruptly mingled with fear, and internally Kylo felt his heart rate abruptly spike.

 

Kylo consciously reminded himself he was no longer the weak youth, lying vulnerably on his back, his only defense against the Jedi Master’s attack a one-handed grip on his own lightsaber. He was the Supreme Leader of a powerful war machine.

 

“I want every gun we have to fire on that man . . . Do it,” Kylo ordered, his calm tone belying that internally he was anything but.

 

The first walker opened fire on the long figure, and was quickly followed by rest. As he lost sight of his uncle amidst wave after wave of blaster fire, Kylo felt his fear give way to unbridled rage.

 

“More!” Kylo screamed, clenching his hands into fists. “MORE!”

 

Sensing they would run out of tibanna gas long before Kylo gave the order to ceasefire, Hux finally stepped in. “That's enough,” he quietly told Kylo. Receiving no indication his words had even been heard, the General turned to his troops. “ _That's enough!_ ” he screamed before condescendingly again addressing Kylo, “Do you think you got him?”

 

Ignoring Hux, Kylo slumped into his seat, ragged breaths catching his throat, as a rush of cathartic relief washed over him.

 

 

_It was finally over . . . until it suddenly wasn’t._

 

 

“Sir?” One of the officers recalled the Supreme Leader’s attention to the scene outside.

 

The gigantic plum of debris was settling—clearing to reveal the impossible and horrible sight of Luke Skywalker striding placidly forward, alive and completely unharmed.

 

The Jedi Master looked straight through the viewport of the command shuttle, intending, Kylo knew, to look straight into the eyes of his old padawan, and raising one hand he gave his shoulder a single mocking brush.

 

Kylo let a humorless breath fall from his lips at the challenge being clearly leveled at him by the older man.

 

“Bring me down to him,” he ordered.

 

Hux, who had already been an obstacle far to many times in the Force user’s quest for vengeance, had protested. Without bothering to look at him Kylo slammed Hux into a wall with the Force. After that the command shuttle’s crew quickly obeyed.

 

 

As Kylo strode down the gangplank, took a firm grip on his fear. He was no longer a helpless padawan learner, and Luke Skywalker was no longer his master.

 

Events were coming full circle, and the two men at last met again in the long awaited confrontation.

 

Adopting a facade of exaggerated confidence he did not feel and keeping a firm grip on his rising sense of panic and terror, Kylo strode out onto the windy salt plain of Crait to face off with his elusive enemy.

 

Kylo fully expected his uncle would make a self-righteous attempt at an intervention to turn him back to the light, and when that failed the Jedi Master would have a justification to again try to end Kylo’s life for the good of the galaxy.

 

“Did you come back to say you forgive me? To save my soul?” Kylo said, cutting to the chase of Luke’s expected plan.

 

“No,” Luke’s responded matter-of-factly.

 

With flare and machismo Kylo shrugged off his cape, grabbed his lightsaber off of his belt, and stepped into a combat stance as he ignited it. The blue blade of Luke’s saber flared to life in answer. Kylo pointed his saber at Luke and stared down the crackling blade at the Jedi Master.

 

For several heartbeats the two regarded each other.

 

Kylo twisted his saber in his hand.

 

Master Skywalker’s lip curved into a small smile, which was more than enough to set Kylo off. He charged forward to attack Luke with a pair of vicious slashes. Luke sidestepped both of them without their saber blades meeting.

 

Kylo shifted his grip and tried again. Luke again spun out of his reach, continuing to rely somewhat surprisingly on purely defensive moves.

 

 _“For now,”_ Kylo thought.

 

 

Their duel, however, suddenly took a stunning turn. For what Kylo absolutely did not expect in that moment was for his uncle to apologize.

 

“I failed you, Ben. I'm sorry,” Luke said, with a surprising amount of sincerity and remorse in his voice.

 

“I'm sure you are!” Kylo spat saltily, reflexively rejecting Luke’s apology. “The Resistance is dead . . . The war is over . . . And when I kill you I will have killed the last Jedi!”

 

“Amazing. Every word of what you just said was wrong,” Luke replied in an infuriatingly patronizing tone. “The Rebellion is reborn today . . . The war is just beginning . . . And I will not be the last Jedi.”

 

Later, Kylo would have to admit the truth in Luke’s words.

 

Kylo had just blasted the Rebel base shield door open with the First Order’s Death Star canon, fully embracing the role of a tyrannical dictator—a form of power that inevitably inspired an uprising. In the same way Vader had spawned the Rebel Alliance, Kylo had in a mythic sense managed to father the New Rebellion, even as Rey—who was not exactly an innocent party in this situation—was birthing it by rescuing the remnant of the Resistance through a back cave opening, and snatching them out of from right under his nose.

 

In the heat of the moment, however, all Kylo had was an angry retort.

 

“I'll destroy her . . . and you . . . and all of it!” Kylo snarled, wishing he could put actual venom into his words as he launched them at Luke.

 

To Kylo’s utter shock, Luke responded by shutting down his lightsaber.

 

He then stood and looked at his nephew with love.

 

“No . . . Strike me down in anger and I'll always be with you . . . Just like your father.”

 

Unlike with his father, however, there was no conflict in Kylo about killing his uncle. He tightened his grip on his lightsaber, charged forward as fast as his legs would carry him, and with a primal scream of rage sliced Jedi Master Luke Skywalker in half.

 

The deed done, Kylo slid to a stop, his feet creating a streak of red as they displaced the white top salt. Briefly looking down at his red lightsaber, Kylo took several deep breaths, feeling again a cathartic rush of relief.

 

 

Until he yet again continued to feel Luke’s presence in the Force.

 

 

Kylo suddenly realized there was something off about Luke’s Force signature, a detail that he had been too out of it to notice until that very moment.

 

With a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, Kylo turned around to see an intact and very much alive Jedi Master turning to face him.

 

The awful truth dawning on him, Kylo slowly walked forward, lightsaber pointed at the figure in front of him. The Force projection of Luke stood still and unharmed as Kylo ineffectively pierced his chest with the saber.

 

“No,” Kylo said in stunned disbelief.

 

“See you around, kid,” was Luke’s only reply.

 

And with those parting words that were akin to something Han Solo would say, Force projection Luke disappeared.

 

A few seconds after that Kylo suddenly realized Luke was not the only one who had disappeared.

 

The remnant of the Resistance was no longer in the mine.

 

“NO!” Kylo screamed, fully comprehending the extent of his defeat.

 

Inwardly completely deflated, Kylo returned to the command shuttle. Hux had regained consciousness and was staring daggers into him in a way made all the more intolerable by the fact Kylo knew for once Hux was in the right.

 

 

 

As he led his of troops in a search of the now empty base, Kylo had time to think over the startling turn of events of the last few minutes.

 

Having apparently let go of their self-centeredness, his parents and uncle continued to throw their impressive collective efforts into their latest attempt to reach him.

 

His mother, clearly in on the brilliant twist of his uncle’s intervention, had left him his father’s golden dice—his mother who still loved him—clearly seconding his uncle’s unexpected message.

 

Luke had not come to confront him as Jedi Master Skywalker intent on protecting the galaxy from the New Vader—but as Ben Solo’s uncle.

 

He was years late, but Luke had finally stepped up to be a surrogate father, and was no longer shirking his responsibility to provide the correction his nephew had previously craved so badly from him.

 

Luke knew this time he was not the one who could redeem the New Vader and save Ben Solo. He had come, however, to finally discipline his nephew, and had set limits on the destructiveness of Kylo’s jilted lover temper tantrum.

 

But mainly—shockingly—Luke had come to apologize.

 

To look at his nephew with love and convey that no matter how Ben had been made to feel while growing up, and no matter his current efforts to burn it down, Ben would always be an important member of the Skywalker family tree.

 

To tell his nephew he had been wrong. Not only for contemplating murdering him in his sleep, but about the very circumstances that had led him to consider such a crime.

 

To apologize for his large role in ruining his nephew’s life—for believing and making Ben believe his path was set—but beyond that to convey that Ben’s life was not permanently ruined and that he still did have a choice.

 

 

Even after his demise, however, Snoke’s poisoning of the young Force user’s mind lingered on . . . and while Kylo could honestly admit that he hated his life and what he had become, he was still plagued by the belief that he had no other choices.

 

That it was too late.

 

 

Sharing his family’s current belief to the contrary, Rey too thought he could change—and expected him to.

 

She had also refused to join the First Order and enable him in his self-destructiveness.

 

Although the nuances had been beyond him in the heat of the moment, Kylo understood now what had happened in the throne room. In a display of her own black and white thinking, Rey had wanted Ben Solo and not the Vader persona of Ben stripped of everything except his powers that was Kylo Ren.

 

Rey had not been rejecting him, but rejecting loving and accepting him in the narrow box everyone else had shoved him into, out of a desire to fully love him in the way he had always longed to be loved. Rey had seen him completely and wanted to loved him completely—as Ben Solo—and not just for his powers. It was something he had always longed for but by the time he met her he thought was impossible. It also was something still incomprehensibly to Ben who still felt himself to be unlovable.

 

As much as he longed to change and let her do just that, Kylo was plagued by his own concrete thinking, insecurities, and mental blocks that made it the task seem impossible. Knowing the truth that he was in too deep to get out on his own, Rey had offered to help him.

 

Rey—who seemed to somehow be actually living Ben Solo’s life.

 

While Poe had been his original replacement in his mother’s life, things had shifted quickly and dramatically when Rey came onto the scene. Rey now appeared to be a magnet for all his family heirlooms, to have taken his place to everyone not just his mother. It was not deliberate, and what Rey had wanted, he knew, was not to keep his life for herself but share it with him.

 

She had echoed his father’s words and his uncle and mother’s sentiments that it was not too late.

 

But her offer had come with major strings attached regarding the Resistance, which he could not wrap his mind around so abruptly. To be fair she probably had not understood what she was asking of him.

 

By the time he left Crait Kylo had calmed down somewhat from the reflexive pain and rage of her rejection. He decided, whatever the cost, he should have taken her up on her offer. Except it had already expired—and the door of the _Falcon_ had been slammed in his face.

 

 

 

Kylo found he was once again left to move forward alone. But move forward how?

 

All of his fathers were dead and it had not worked—as when he started down this insane path, Kylo still did not have clear path into manhood. Killing Han Solo, furthermore, had only left Kylo even weaker than before.

 

Patricide having failed, and Kylo was now left to choose from two antithetical options.

 

Han had sacrificed himself to try and rescue his son. Luke had not only reminded his nephew of Han’s sacrifice, but had also made a sacrifice of his own as the exertion of Force projecting across the galaxy had eventually ended his life. As with his father, Kylo realized that his uncle was leaving him a lesson not only on how to die but more importantly how to live.

 

That the path to authentic manhood was again a life of self-sacrifice and service.

 

The life of a true Jedi.

 

 

In reflecting on his stand off with his uncle, Kylo found the full implications of Luke’s words were clear. Just as he was not the last Jedi, Luke Skywalker was also not the future of the Jedi either.

 

No, the seed of the New Jedi Order was Ben Solo and Rey—together.

 

For Luke, his nephew’s true destiny was alongside Rey to help found the New Jedi—to find peace and balance in himself, and through that help the galaxy find peace and rebalance the Force.

 

His uncle clearly believed that was still a possible future for him.

 

 

To Kylo, however, that seemed impossible.

 

Accepting the possibility of the future his uncle proposed required Kylo to first accept Luke’s apology. But accepting his uncle’s apology would require forgiving the unforgiveable—something Kylo could not and would not do.

 

Kylo had learnt all to well that along with hate, anger, aggression, jealousy—in a special way unforgivness was also a path to the dark side. As the poster boy from unforgiveness, it had both drawn Kylo to the dark side and was now keeping him stuck there.

 

Consumed with the shame of what was done to him along with the guilt for what he had by that point done, Kylo could not bring himself to forgive his uncle, his parents, or himself.

 

His father had forgiven him the unforgivable, and chosen his son’s terrible choice as his own if it was what was needed to get his son back. There was a lesson in there. But it was a lesson Kylo was not capable of receiving, and he superficially brushed forgiving off as a weakness.

 

On one level Kylo was also still furious Luke was dead, which meant he could not kill him in revenge for _that_ unforgivable night. Another part of him recognized that echoing his father’s example, Luke too had sacrificed himself in an attempt to make things right. The Jedi Master had let go of his paralyzing guilt, and had come to apologize and seek forgiveness—and finally forgive himself for his unspeakable wrong. With that accomplished there was nothing holding him back from passing into the Force—full of a peace and purpose Kylo had never known.

 

Luke too had left his nephew an example of how to overcome the darkness within himself, and offered Kylo a chance to absorb and put into practice his father’s dying lesson and forgive.

 

The path back into the Light was so alluring, so tempting. But Kylo found he could not do it, he could not embrace forgiveness.

 

 

It was just too hard.

 

 

Kylo knew, however, that he also could not stay as he was being ripped apart by conflict.

 

That left only one path left—following his grandfather further down the easier road into darkness in the hope it would provide him with some relief from the turmoil. His heart whispered that it would not, but Kylo continued to believe he had no other choices.

 

 

And the path following after Vader had led him to the present moment—staring at the Knights of Ren.

 

The Knights had all been out on their own assignments in the intense search for Skywalker, and had missed the series of succinct and dramatic events that had culminated in the First Order See change.

 

Kylo was glad—he would not have wanted them anywhere around Rey.

 

Having not been singled out for any of Snokes special attention, most of the Knight had not much cared one way or the other who lead the First Order—as long as it was not Hux—and were unfazed at returning to find Snoke dead and Kylo in charge.

 

Except Rouge.

 

In Rouge there had been a twitch. Almost imperceptible, but enough to raise Kylo’s old suspicions that had had to be relegate to the back of his mind as paranoia due to a complete lack of even circumstantial evidence—a suspicion that now resurfaced that Snoke had somehow planted Rouge at Luke’s training temple as part of the plan to entrap him.

 

Presently, however, there were more pressing matter with which to attend.

 

“Did you get it?” There was an edge to Kylo’s voice as he addressed the nightmarish figures that comprised the Knights of Ren.

 

“Yes,” Monk said, handing him a datastick, “The copy of the Imperial archives on Yaga Minor was intact enough, and it was there when we finally able to slice in.”

 

Kylo stared down at the datastick in his hand, feeling his heart rate quicken.

 

After all this time, all his searches, a long last . . .

 

 

_Mustafar._

 

 

Snoke had deliberately kept the coordinates of the firy planet and location of Vader’s Castle from him, using it as a tantalizing reward of which Kylo was forever just quite not worthy.

 

Kylo remembered telling Snoke in one of their last conversations that he had given everything he had to him and the dark side. But Kylo had been wrong. Snoke had indeed taken everything he had. But Kylo had not in fact given everything to the dark side. Nor had Snoke wanted him to. There was power there, real power that he had yet to experience. The kind his grandfather had harnessed. The kind Snoke had never wanted him to have, content to keep him as a manipulatable child, who’s out of control temper and other weaknesses he could hone into a “sharp edge tool.”

 

“Give this to Captain Peavey,” Kylo ordered, giving the datastick with the coordinates back to Monk, “And inform him we’re leaving. Now.”

 

 

Kylo was free now. Free to fulfill his destiny as the New Vader, to finish what his grandfather had started, and bring peace, order, justice to the galaxy.

 

Free to pursue the full power of the darkness.

 

Because, while Snoke could never fully turn Ben Solo to the dark side . . . Kylo himself could.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading, and for the comments and kudos. They are much appreciated!
> 
>  
> 
> Although I know different very valid interpretations are out there (see LOTS response https://jp2187.tumblr.com/post/182260286603/psychology-of-ben-vs-anakin) this is how I conceptualize Ben’s characterization as influenced by Anakin.
> 
>  
> 
> PSYCHOLOGY OF BEN VS. ANAKIN
> 
> I would argue that Ben Solo likely has the opposite temperament and emotional problems from Anakin.
> 
> ANAKIN (narcissistic projection --> VADER)
> 
> TRAUMA: Death of his mother and then his wife (mother replacement).  
> Cannot grieve in a healthy way as to the Jedi emotions are unacceptable (fear, anger, grief --> weaknesses/bad)
> 
> CORE BELIEF (perceived “flaw”): Anakin believes he is an incompetent failure.
> 
> EVIDENCE of “flaw/weakness” (leads actively trying to avoid being “found out,” by other and own conscious awareness): Anakin’s feeling and emotions (fear, anger, grief), and the “darkness” he and others sense in him.
> 
> NARCISSISTIC INJURY: Unable tolerate failure in himself (failure to save mother/wife) or in subordinates (as their failure reflects on him). Results in rageful outburst --> kills Tuscan raider, chokes the life breath out of subordinates unconsciously expressing that he does not deserve to be alive himself (as Vader kept alive and breathing by an iron lung).
> 
> DEFENSIVE CONSTRUCT: Vader’s Castle. The vainglorious monstrosity and shrine to his power, which Vader built by hand using the power of the dark side on the site of his greatest defeat (lost lightsaber duel with Obi-Wan who left him to die limbless after taking his lightsaber) and where he lost Padme. A place of misery and isolation, it still serves to protect Anakin from the incompetence he feels over failing to beat Obi-Wan and save his wife/mother replacement.
> 
>  
> 
> Anakin emotionally suppresses nothing (temperamentally much more in line with the Sith), and gets his emotional needs met behind the Jedi’s back.
> 
> Ben likely started out suppresses everything. (Ironically Ben would have made a model of emotionally repressed obedient Jedi).
> 
> For Kylo, Vader is a (terrible) model of how to behave, and how to actually express emotions (all of which are distilled down to rage).
> 
> Most of Kylo’s outburst, therefore, are just mimicking Vader (not all narcissistic injury driven, and a case can be made he has more depression than narcissistic traits). While ALL of Vader’s outbursts are narcissistic injury driven.
> 
> Which adds another layer of complexity to the Ferrari of a fictional character that is Ben Solo/Kylo Ren.
> 
> \----------
> 
> Acknowledgment of works of commentary that contributed ideas significantly included in this chapter:
> 
> LOTS Podcast: Psychology of the Characterization: Kylo Ren  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DsdViE8mse4
> 
> SWC: Kylo Ren and the Portrayal of Masculinity in Star Wars  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k5nGoYklHu8
> 
>  
> 
> SWC: Rey and Kylo as Adam and Eve parts 1 & 2  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8MnYSctj1RM  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xyEUSld-aa0
> 
> SWC: Snoke in the TFA parts 1 & 2  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JQK8QkqogEw&t=81s  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uFr-vQvHYsc&t=64s
> 
> SWC: Rey’s Origins: Snoke is the Key  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SC6W2_Br26g
> 
> Wayward Jedi: Supreme Leader Snoke - A Mythic Case Study  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RLDs7mtg9g4&t=285s
> 
>  
> 
> Artwork: Art of The Force Awakens, page 221


	9. Star-Crossed Lovers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey visits Padme’s grave, and Kylo reaches Vader’s Castle on Mustafar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry it took me so long to get this posted. This chapter took forever to write.
> 
> This chapter is better than it otherwise would have been, however, as LOTS podcast dropped multiple discussions while I was working on it, including Psychology of Rey’s Characterization, a Reylo vs. Anidala discussion, and commentary about the recent costume leaks (if you have been with me for a while I went back and changed Kylo’s “spare mask” to “repaired mask” after the leaks came out).
> 
> clairen45 also posted a Bridges Tropes in Star Wars meta that was so brilliant that I realized I needed to go back and add a bunch of bridges.
> 
> https://clairen45.tumblr.com/post/183145657858/the-bridge-trope-in-star-wars-and-what-it-may-mean
> 
> https://clairen45.tumblr.com/post/183289143738/addendum-on-my-sw-bridge-trope-meta
> 
>  
> 
> All I can say is that I made sure I finished this chapter before doing my taxes.

 

   

 

 

**Chapter 9: Star-Crossed Lovers**

 

 

The blue sky was clear save for a decorative smattering of fluffy white clouds, and the afternoon was pleasantly temperate as Rey stomped out of Theen in search of less manicured foliage.

 

The day, like most of her days on Naboo, had fallen into a predictable rhythm. After touching base with Chewie and spending a few precious minutes helping him work on the _Falcon_ , it had been time for Rey’s daily visit to Leia. Rey had found the older woman’s condition unchanged—unconscious but her life force still strongly present as Rey reached out to her through the Force.

 

After that the rest of Rey’s typical day was spent training, which under Luke’s tutelage consisted in a great deal of running and jumping while letting the Force flow through her. Some days Rey also found herself balancing on one hand or foot while lifting objects into the air to hone her concentration.

 

While Rey normally practiced under Luke’s watchful eye, he would sometimes leave her to figure things out on her own. Sensing her truly foul mood, the Jedi Master had wisely chosen today as one of the days to leave Rey to herself.

 

Finally reaching the edge of the forest, Rey ignited her lightsaber and activated the training module she had found on the _Falcon_ before charging off into the trees.

 

Since completing her repairs to Anakin’s saber, sparring practice had constituted the bulk of her Force training, and Rey’s skill with a lightsaber had grown exponentially. She had quickly figured out how to turn on the more advanced settings of the training module, and it now zoomed through the trees to deliver a salvo of shots from different directions.

 

Today, Rey had been especially looking forward to engaging with the metal sphere, hoping for a mental break and opportunity to burn off some of her mounting frustration. She was disappointed to realize, therefore, that the highest level on the training module was becoming too easy for her, and blocking and parrying the stun bolts no longer took her full concentration.

 

As a result, Rey found her mind beginning to wander even as she sparred her way through the woods.

 

 

The Naboo had been gracious in their hospitality, providing the remnant of the Resistance with clothes, food, housing, and the rest of the day-to-day necessities they needed as they labored to build the New Rebel Alliance. Without the help of the Naboo the task would have been impossible, particularly in the time frame available to launch an attack on the _Supremacy_ while it was still undergoing repairs.

 

The New Rebel Alliance was deeply in the Naboo’s debt, and Poe and the rest of the New Rebels were deeply grateful. Rey shared everyone’s gratitude, but often found her thankfulness overshadowed by another sentiment.

 

 

Rey absolutely hated it here.

 

 

The other Rebels had seamlessly adopted the traditional regal attire their Naboo hosts had provided for day to day life on planet. The clothes of the Naboo did not differ significantly in essence from those of Alderaan, and Leia had looked like herself in the elegant dresses. Poe—dashing and handsome in anything he put on—wore the ornate garments with flare. Finn had an innate regalness about him, and the Naboo garb suited him well. Rose, Connix, and everyone else had also managed to pull off the new look.

 

Everyone except Rey.

 

Rey had tried the elegant clothing on once. Clashing horribly with her personality, to her eye they looked awkward and felt uncomfortable to her skin. After that Rey had rejected the Naboo garb in favor of her own familiar coarse homespun outfits.

 

Even among her own clothes, however, Rey was a bit selective.

 

Her first venture into wearing darker toned clothes and letting her hair down had not ended well, and Rey did not return to the outfit she had worn aboard the _Supremacy_. She was not displeased, furthermore, that the white material she found to construct new tops and pants was even whiter than her childhood clothes in which she had left Jakku. Her hair too was back up in an albeit more stylized version of her usual three buns.

 

But even sewing herself new shirts had turned into an unexpected source of inner conflict. No longer in the sweltering Jakku heat, Rey could afford to add more cover particularly for her arms. She was very tempted, but in the end Rey rejected that idea in favor sticking with less restrictive for Jedi training short sleeves.

 

 

That, however, left her new scar exposed.

 

 

Even after her upper arm had fully healed from being sliced open during her and Ben’s throne room fight with Snoke’s Pretorian guard, the scar was still highly visible.

 

In the aftermath of their escape from Crait everyone was riding an adrenaline high or tending to their own injuries—or in Finn’s case completely focused on the unconscious Rose—and paid no attention to Rey’s appearance. There were only a handful of people who would recognize any change in her anyway.

 

If Leia noticed she had not said anything. Moreover, the older woman oozed maternal support as far as the younger one was concerned, and Rey would not have cared one way or another if Leia noticed her scar.

 

Luke had started visiting Rey while it was still healing, and had definitely noticed the wound that had not been present when Rey had left Ahch-To. The Jedi Master, however, was done with his attempts to shame Rey about her attraction to his nephew and her subsequent choices. Along the lines of his complete reversal in attitude, Luke made not the slightest comment about Rey’s new scar.

 

The Rebellion in general and Finn in particular were another story. Finn would definitely notice Rey’s new acquisition, and Rey had opted to cover it with an upper armband she made out of a piece of brown leather before it became an issue. Finn chalked her armband up to a personal fashion choice, for which Rey was thankful as she had absolutely no interest discussing with Finn or anyone else the company she had been keeping when she had gotten that particular injury.

 

 

Her armband securely in place, Rey found her own clothes and style overall comfortable and grounding after her recent ordeal. They did, however, frequently illicit the stares of the locals.

 

Living on Naboo was, furthermore, Rey’s first experience of real mirrors—and the new unbidden insecurity about her appearance they brought into her life.

 

On Jakku, Rey did not have much of an awareness of what she looked like and had not particularly cared. It was simply not relevant to survival, which was all that really mattered in the cutthroat life of the harsh desert. Life on Naboo was different, however, and Rey soon found herself plagued by both the mirrors in the palace and the looks she got from the elegant Naboo—which were another kind of mirror.

 

Rey was a wild desert rose, who would give anyone who tried her hurt her a handful of thorns, but with her own gentle brilliance and beauty when left in her own environment. But she was a long way from the desert, and compared to the refined adornment and polished elegance that was considered beautiful in this sophisticated society, Rey felt plain and more consciously aware of being an insignificant nobody from nowhere than she ever had before.

 

Even while clinging to her own clothes, Rey found she could not stop herself from comparing her appearance to everyone around her. The holos of Padmé at the Naberrie House with her glorious long hair and refined beauty did not help Rey’s failing efforts to not find her own looks lacking in the slightest.

 

Rey had a pretty good idea without asking Luke, with whom she was absolutely not discussing this, which side of the Force such comparisons came from. But Rey still found herself powerless to stop making them—particularly when everyone she passed in the halls of the palace or on the street appeared to be making them for her.

 

 

Moreover, her inability to adapt to life on Naboo was not limited to her appearance, as Rey also soon found out.

 

The room Rey had been assigned in the palace was twice as big as her AT-AT on Jakku. It was richly furnished with elegant tapestries and furniture including a luxuriously soft four-poster bed, and had a huge bay window overlooking the beautiful palace gardens. The first time Rey had set eyes on it she had been overwhelmed with the beauty of the room, and was in shock that the Naboo were assigning it to her for own private use.

 

Rey quickly became less enamored with the room, however, as the realities of living in it quickly set in. The bed she discovered was so soft that it hurt her back. In the middle of her first night on Naboo, Rey had pulled off a blanket and pillow and resettled herself on the floor—much to the shock of the maid whose job it apparently was _to make Rey’s bed in the morning._

 

Longing to relocate herself back aboard the _Falcon_ with Chewie, Rey nevertheless found that she was stuck in the palace out of fear of appearing ungrateful for all the Naboo had done and giving offense.

 

Rey also found the decadent local food, although in welcome abundance, often turned her stomach that was accustomed to much simpler fare in small quantities. The looks she received from the servers as they regularly cleared away plates full of only partially eaten food, made Rey aware she was causing offense in the kitchen as well to rest of the palace staff.

 

Paintings, waterfalls, gardens, and mirrors were not the only things on Naboo new to Rey. Etiquette and social graces were also a strange concept to the young scavenger from Jakku, whose prior social interactions had boiled down to fighting with the other inhabitants for scarce essential resources, and with negotiations being conducted with her bowstaff as much as with words.

 

On Naboo, Rey found herself playing a game with rules that remained incomprehensible to her even after months surrounding by it. All she could really tell was she was losing badly. No one told her she was a low-class backwater hick without the slightest sense of culture or fine manners—they were all far too well-bred—but Rey could tell much of the time that is exactly what the Naboo were thinking.

 

Being here was messing with Rey’s head—something else she had to carefully conceal from their gracious hosts and even her fellow Rebels. The Rebels were used to being adaptive. Many of them, like Poe, had grown up in New Republic society anyway. Even Finn, so dead-set against joining the Resistance, was now fully embracing all the aspects of his new life.

 

None of them would understand.

 

On the surface Rey remained closely allied to the cause that she had been trying to get everyone around her to join since leaving Jakku. She was also still held in high esteem by the remnant of the Resistance, which had automatically translated into a high position in the New Rebel Alliance.

 

But Rey sensed the Force was leading her on a path different from the Rebellion, which made her feel even more isolated and disconnected from everyone around her.

 

Feeling she had been here way too long, Rey desperately wanted to move on from Naboo. For now, however, she was stuck, and as much as she understood the rationale, having the _Falcon_ grounded was driving her crazy.

 

Luke had counseled patience, and told her to wait for the Force to make the next move.

 

 

Rey wished the Force would hurry up.

 

 

With that cheery thought passing through her mind Rey took a particularly vicious swing at a stun bolt, and the glowing blue blade of her saber nicked a nearby tree.

 

 _“Ben would understand,”_ Rey thought to herself, a little surprised it had taken her mind this long to wander in his direction.

 

Ben actually had understood Rey’s current predicament before it actually occurred, anticipating how she would be perceived on a posh Core world—as a nobody from nowhere, who was rather plain and nothing special. That was exactly what had happened, and Rey found that a deep part of the little girl who had been abandoned on Jakku had always believed it.

 

Despite now being the Rebellion’s and, therefore, technically Rey’s archenemy, Ben had been instrumental in her growing to where she was today. Rey, moreover, found the way he looked at her to be grounding and empowering.

 

Ben looked at her like no else ever had—and certainly as no one on Naboo or even any of the Rebels did. Furthermore, he had seen something in her even before her strength in the Force had manifested. Having grown up in Hosnian Prime high society, Rey could only guess Ben had been in the company of countless beautiful women. So what in the galaxy had he seen in her back then?

 

To be fair Ben was pretty unpolished when it came to anything resembling social graces even if he had grown up in privilege. Was it because she was different from everyone he had grown up around? Was it because they were both fairly wild and untamed?

 

Whatever Ben saw, Rey knew now that from the very beginning he considered her to be incredibly special.

 

He had of course managed to tell her that in the most insultingly snobbish way possible, “You come from nothing, you’re nothing . . . but not to me.”

 

Rey, however, was realizing that was just typical Ben. With increasing frequency since arriving on Naboo, Rey had begun consoling and reassuring herself with Ben’s horrible words and the heartfelt feelings he had meant them to convey.

 

With his predilection for jarring bluntness Ben continued to find ways to protect her. Which contrary to outward appearances and the expectations of their differing childhoods, protection that in hindsight Rey had enjoyed a considerable amount . . . and Ben had not.

 

 

As she continued to dance among the trees and the training module stun bolts, Rey reflected that the mind was a strange place.

 

Ben was born into privilege, was a member of one of the most prestigious family lineages in the galaxy, was raised in the upper crust of the New Republic’s capital, and possessed gifts and talents beyond most people’s wildest imagination. He belonged to the elite of the elite. His family loved him, felt his absence deeply, and—his father and uncle having already sacrificed their lives in the attempt—would do anything to get him back. And yet, Rey knew, Ben somehow had managed to end up with inconceivably low self-esteem, and considered himself to be worthless and unlovable.

 

Rey, on the other hand, in spite of being a nobody from nowhere had made it through childhood with her self-worth intact. She may have been an indentured laborer, little more than a slave, from a Western Reaches desert junkyard, but among the scavengers she was the best—something that definitely meant something on Jakku. Sold off and abandoned, she had deluded herself into believing her family wanted her and was coming back for her. Rey had kept the truth and any insecurities she had far away from her conscious mind, and had never felt like or consciously thought of herself as a nobody.

 

Until of course Rey came to Naboo. Finding herself totally out of place, she could no longer relegate the truth of her insignificance to her unconscious awareness.

 

Occupants of the Nabberrie House excepted, Rey found she did not care for the Naboo and their fashionable society. While the Naboo professed a love for harmony, it was all a bit superficial. Rey often found herself remembering that these were the people who had not only produced Padmé Amidala, champion of democracy and peace among diverse peoples . . . but Emperor Palpatine as well.

 

On Naboo Rey hung onto Ben’s awful words. Because if Ben Solo, the New Republic prince who had managed to convince himself he was a nothing somehow believed she was special—well that was actually quite something.

 

 

 

Rey had also grown in more positive ways during her months on Naboo. Her understanding of the ways of the Force had grown exponentially since leaving the Jakku desert, and gone were the days when anything to do with lightsabers and Force powers would ubiquitously freak her out.

 

Along with Rey’s newly acquired knowledge, particularly in the workings of lightsabers, came a very different perspective on recent events—and the conclusion that Ben Solo was not nearly the monster Rey had thought he was when she first met him.

 

As Rey sliced her way through the Naboo trees she thought again of a similar forest on Takodana . . . except this time it was Vader who stalked her. Vader who reflected the first blaster blot she shot at him back to her, and as she lay immobilized in pain from where it had torn into her, Vader ripped Luke’s location from her mind, as Snoke had later done, before leaving her to die among moss covered rocks.

 

Ben, however, had forgone this more efficient option at his disposal for taking her down and getting the map. His mask hiding the face that was now dearest to Rey in the galaxy, Ben had instead defensively deflected all her blaster fire harmlessly away from both of them, and spent time he did not have with the Resistance joining the battle to chase her through the forest.

 

Furthermore, Ben had had numerous additional opportunities after Takodana to kill Rey or hurt her very badly . . . but had repeatedly chosen not to. Unaware that bringing a blaster to a lightsaber duel was equivalent to bringing a vibroblade to a blaster fight, and throwing everything she had at him with the “shoot first ask questions later” mentality she had acquired on Jakku, Rey had continued to ineffectively shoot at him every chance she got—and he continued to avoid the most effective—and destructive—way neutralize her attacks in in favor of ones that would cause her minimal harm.

 

 

And what of the map to Luke everyone wanted so badly?

 

In spite of Ben’s creepy threat that he could take whatever he wanted from her, which was truer than Rey had realized at the time . . . Ben had not actually done so. Having survived her audience with Snoke and hearing Poe recount his time aboard the _Finalizer_ , Rey realized in hindsight that she had had far too much power during her time as a prisoner on Starkiller. She was now more keenly aware that whatever had happened between her and Ben during her time in captivity barely resembled an actual interrogation.

 

 

Rey’s vastly different opinion of Ben was, moreover, not based solely on his treatment of her.

 

Although Rey usually avoided such discussions like a rotting lugabeast carcass, she had recently gotten trapped at dinner in one of Poe and Finn’s Kylo Ren bashing sessions. They had tried to get her to join in, but Rey kept her mouth firmly shut. Although misinterpreting her motives, her friends had thankfully accepted that she did not want to talk about him.

 

Rey resolvedly kept silent, knowing any attempt on her part to defend Ben would open up suspicion and a line of questioning in which Rey had no interest in engaging. She was fully aware of the scandal it would cause among the Rebellion should her . . . interactions . . . with the enemy become known. Rey, therefore, held her tongue and later sat on her hands when she was suddenly seized with an intense desire to punch Poe in his overly pretty face.

 

She did not, therefore, share with Poe that her current reaction to being shot at—according to Luke all Jedi’s reaction to being shot at—was to easily block the blaster bolt with the most basic of lightsaber skills, with the further option to turn defense into offense by deflecting the shot straight back on her assailant.

 

According to Poe, however, Ben’s instinctual reaction had been to defensively _freeze a blaster bolt in midair_.

 

Additionally, every time Poe and Finn congratulated themselves on “getting out alive,” Rey wanted to point out that they were alive because Ben had left them so and uninjured enough to escape—which given all the trouble they had caused, was something the First Order likely regarded as a serious misstep.

 

Even Ben slicing Finn’s back open on Starkiller Rey now saw with new eyes. It was no longer escaping Rey that Ben had not killed Finn instantly—and that a less skilled swordsman would have simply cut Finn in half. Rey was not sure too many were in possession of surgical precision and dexterity with a lightsaber it had taken a to inflict a wound that would have eventually killed Finn, but one he had survived and walked away from fully healed after medical treatment.

 

Although an unconscious decision, the act was still a deliberate choice on Ben’s part—one that reflected the knife-edge on which he lived—and revealed that Ben Solo’s own temperament still leaked through the persona of Kylo Ren.

 

On Rey’s closer examination there were aspects of his Vader-like façade that were visibly awkward and an unconvincing fit, now that Rey knew Ben better and could appreciate such nuances.

 

Ultimately, Rey realized in hindsight that it was what he had _not_ done that said an awful lot about the man everyone around her was determined to hate.

 

From Rey’s current vantage point, however, a new picture of Ben Solo was forming in her mind—particularly his preference for defensive tactics, his patience, and his restraint over his power in the Force. It seemed to require a special degree of provocation to motivate Ben into taking action, which stood in contrast to Rey’s own inclination to quickly identify and engage her enemy.

 

At his core, Ben was a far cry from the violent Vaderesque warlord Snoke had driven him to be, with their massive black clade frames, scary masks, intimidating red lightsabers, and unimaginable strength with the Force being where much of the true similarities ended between Vader and his grandson.

 

Of course initially Ben had still been a pushy, grabby jerk. But Rey no longer saw him as a vicious beast from the wilderness, whom she needed to slay out of self-preservation.

 

 

 

Done with her training session for the day, Rey reached out through the Force and deactivated the training module before extinguishing the lightsaber’s blue blade.

 

As she caught her breath, Rey’s eyes lingered on the handle of the lightsaber that she had painstakingly reconstructed—the saber that was her one constant in this ever shifting adventure into which she had been called.

 

The lightsaber that in many ways had gotten her into this mess.

 

 

As a child on Jakku Rey had dreamt of adventure, to which her starfighter pilot helmet and doll, along with her other childhood treasures could attest.

 

And adventure had indeed called.

 

It started with a small act of kindness to BB-8, which turned into a series of acts of kindness to the droid, who became her first real friend. In short order that had led her to Finn, a harrowing escape from First Order TIE Fighters aboard what turned out to be the _Millennium Falcon_ itself. If that was not enough, Rey soon found herself rescuing Finn from Rathtars, and temporary copilot to legendary smuggler Han Solo on a trip to a planet that was greener than anything she could ever have imagined.

 

It had been a grand taste of adventure—something Rey could remember fondly when she was back on Jakku waiting for her family.

 

 

Little did Rey know then that she would not be allowed to only have a taste.

 

 

Her real summons to adventure had occurred in Maz’s castle on Takodana when Anakin Skywalker’s lightsaber had called out to her through the Force. No sooner had Rey touched her hand to the metal than she was caught up in a Force vision of the family tragedy surrounding its sole heir and the saber’s true master.

 

In the vision Rey had seen Luke weeping with his artificial right hand on Artoo’s domed head, watching his training temple burn. Next she saw Kylo Ren with a band of thugs slaughtering his way across the galaxy, who upon noticing her presence looked straight into her eyes and took an aggressive step towards her. Then came a vision of herself as a child screaming at a ship to come back. Desert abruptly became snowy forest, and Rey heard someone calling her name . . . before Kylo Ren, red lightsaber ablaze, stepped out from behind a rock.

 

After that the call to adventure had no longer been fun, but rather was intimidating and terrifying.

 

 

 _He_ was intimidating and terrifying.

 

 

As her gaze continued to linger on the Skywalker family’s legacy lightsaber, Rey remembered somewhat ruefully her words to Maz that she was “never touching that thing again” and she “wanted no part of this.”

 

Done with the adventure she had been called to, Rey had taken off at a dead run into the Takodana forest in the direction of Jakku and her childhood. As a result she had ironically had a perfect view of Ben’s command shuttle as it cruised around the ruins of Maz’s castle.

 

A few minutes after that was her fateful first meeting with Ben himself—whom she found even more intimidating in person than in her Force vision.

 

In encountering him, Rey had been swept up in completely the opposite direction from her intended destination, and irrevocably carried over the threshold to adventure whether she liked it or not.

 

 

Its initial call rejected, Anakin’s saber had, however, followed her to Starkiller Base.

 

Stuck in the snow, it again called to Rey.

 

Under new dicey circumstances Rey had answered the call with a call of her own. To Rey’s amazement the saber had bypassed its rightful owner and flown into her outstretched hand.

 

Rey could not point to the exact moment when she began thinking of it as her lightsaber, but since landing in her hand in the snowy forest Anakin’s saber had been her staunch ally and defense as she was steadily pulled into the strange world of Force powers and galactic conflicts.

 

It had been jarring to Rey just how different using the legacy saber was to wielding Kylo Ren’s red lightsaber, when she had briefly grabbed it off his belt and charged Snoke. It was one of the many lessons she had learnt during her multilayered loss of innocence in the Supreme Leader’s throne room.

 

Anakin’s saber itself seemed to have decided that at present Rey would be a better custodian than the dysfunctional family from which it originated.

 

After watching Luke chuck it over his shoulder nearly into the Ahch-To sea, Rey had had to agree.

 

On Starkiller Ben had wanted it, but Rey got the sense it would end up unused as part of his shrine to Darth Vader. On the _Supremacy_ , however, Rey had been happy to let Ben take it, sensing the connection with his past and family having a grounding effect in the midst of his every present inner conflict.

 

And it had been right that Ben had killed Snoke with his grandfather’s lightsaber.

 

Beyond that, Rey and Ben had handed it off to each other multiple times after her arrival on the _Supremacy_ , and both had needed it at some point in their fight with Snoke’s Praetorian Guard.

 

 

At that point it had become their lightsaber.

 

 

Right up until the awful moment Rey knew under the circumstances he was offering she could not stay with him. Then in a moment not born of fear but impassioned, righteous fury Rey had sought to take it back.

 

The Skywalker legacy saber rightfully belonged to her and Ben Solo—and Kylo Ren could not keep it.

 

They had both dug in their heals and fought for the saber, which this time did not take a side—and like the conflict inside of Ben, they had literally torn it in half.

 

Rey had spent countless hours carefully repairing and reconstructing it. Newly rebuilt it was again in her hand, and she looked down at it as the afternoon sunlight filtered through the trees.

 

Guardian of Anakin’s lightsaber, Rey sometimes felt she had been charged with safeguarding Anakin’s family as well.

 

Although she had originally professed wanting no part of the Skywalker family melodrama, she had inevitably ended up in some way helping to put the family back together one member at a time. In many ways and with the exception of Leia, Rey seemed to care more about this family to which she did not belong than the broken men who were a part of it. Thankfully that had changed for Han and Luke before their deaths.

 

The last of the Skywalkers was of course was another story, and whether or not Anakin’s bloodline—currently on course to be just as broken as his lightsaber had been—could also be given new life was yet to be seen.

 

 

Although their interactions had sadly been brief, Rey had been amazed to watch Leia with her extended family—like a mighty shoot being graphed onto one of the trees with deep roots that fascinated Rey as she spent time in the forest.

 

For as far back as Rey could remember she had yearned to discover her own roots, find her own family, and learn her place in the galaxy.

 

Rey had to admit to herself, however, that finding her family of origin would no longer be sufficient to satisfy her longing. As she looked at the multiple generation depicted in the family holos adorning Aunt Sola’s sitting room, Rey knew she did not want to be part of just any family—even her own.

 

She wanted to be part of _this_ family.

 

 

Resuming her walk through the forest, Rey continued to be lost in thought.

 

After being hauled off by the last of the Skywalkers, Rey had had to come to terms with being unable to return to Jakku and remain in girlhood. One of the many questions she arrived on Acho-To with, therefore, was how exactly she was supposed to be a woman.

 

In her time of discernment, Rey had been presented with options for two very different paths.

 

Everything on the island that housed the first Jedi Temple, from the instructions of the legendary Luke Skywalker to the nun-like Caretakers, pointed Rey towards conforming herself to the Code of the Jedi—a path not terribly dissimilar in outcome to how Rey would have lived had she spent her life on Jakku.

 

On the surface her choice seemed clear.

 

Master Skywalker, for whom the “dark side” was indistinguishable from the actual dark side, was abundantly clear which path was the correct one for Rey to take. Although having burned all his own bridges and professing himself to be deeply jaded against the Jedi of old, Luke had none the less attempted to impose on Rey the Jedi Code against attachment. Specifically romantic attachment to his nephew—an interested in only one thing seductive bad boy, who would corrupt her and lead her astray. The Jedi Master had blasted and shamed Rey in many subtle and not so subtle ways for even considering the possibility, until in the middle of their duel he had flat out scolded her for opening herself up to the dark side “for a pair of pretty eye.”

 

Advocating for the opposite direction was Ben. Having physically blocked her from running back to a barren future in the desert, the owner of the pretty eyes had expressed an equally strong opinion that Rey should take the other more commonly trod path of womanhood—along with a staunch stance concerning with whom she should walk it. Despite hating him at the time, Ben’s offer was something Rey had nonetheless found confusingly attractive.

 

 

Rey’s choice should have been simple—resist Ben and his attempts to tempt and lure her away from the Light and the noble way of the Jedi. On a deeper level, however, Rey found her choice was complicated by the fact that all was not as it seemed.

 

 

Although Luke had agreed to teach her, in the end it had been Ben who had nurtured her, and helped her grow into a better version of herself. This was due largely to the fact that Ben was the first person Rey could consistently rely on to tell her the truth.

 

It was a foreign concept to Rey, who had learnt growing up on Jakku to expect everyone to lie to her. Maybe that was why she had not been more scandalized when Finn lied to her about being part of the Resistance when he was really an escaped stormtrooper. In the beginning Luke too had lied to her. Rey expected lies and was not overly disturbed when even those closest to her were less than honest.

 

Deeply wounded by two generations of his family’s lies, however, Ben told Rey the truth, and convinced her it was something she should be able to expect from people—including herself. He also taught her the importance of living in the truth no matter what the consequences, and accepting it no matter how difficult it might be for Rey to face.

 

The truth about her parents, the truth about the Jedi, and the truth that she should not contort herself to the Jedi Code just to please her latest surrogate father figure.

 

The truth about herself and what she wanted out of life.

 

The truth that wanting a relationship and her own family were perfectly good and reasonable things for Rey to want.

 

The Jedi with their Code were wrong—things were not so black and white, a choice to love and be loved did not automatically equate to a choice for the dark side. Even all these months later Rey continued to know that in this she was right.

 

While Ben was a positive influence on her, Rey also seemed to be good for Ben in return. His feelings for and attraction to her appeared to have a humanizing effect on him—and on occasion had been strong enough to draw him back toward the Light and out of being stuck in the dark where even his father had not been able to reach him.

 

Snoke may have sadistically taken credit for creating the bridge between her and Ben, and Rey would not have put it past him to have done something. But their bond across space and time had survived Snoke’s death, even if it had not happened in a while. Rey knew on a deeper level that it was the Force that was ultimately responsible for connecting her and Ben in such a profound way.

 

Additionally, from the other side of the afterlife, an apologetic Luke had not mentioned one syllable about the Jedi Code. Even the Ahch-To Caretakers had not ended up being mateless—as Rey had discovered when Luke tricked her into barging in on their festivities in honor of their black-clad menfolk being home from sea.

 

In the end Rey had made her choice as to which path to womanhood she wanted to follow, and she had chosen Ben.

 

 

But even that had not ended up being a simple choice.

 

 

Because no matter how emphatic he was that Rey deserved to be guided by truth and live in the Light, that was not a conviction that Ben extended to himself.

 

No, Ben had succumbed to the lure of power and the illusion of safety it would bring him. And after emphatically insisting Rey live in the truth, Ben had extended his hand and asked her to join him in living the lie he was determined to believe.

 

 

 

 

While a relationship with him was not automatically bad, Rey was then struck with the reality that, just as it mattered what lightsaber he chose to use and what kind of man he chose to be, the way they came together mattered—and a misstep could still send her tumbling after Kylo Ren onto the dark side.

 

In her desperation to not be alone, the Rey who left Jakku would have stayed with him anyway, believing she could change him and everything would still be fine. But after being repeatedly challenged by Ben about her tendency to ignore painful truths and live in her happy delusions, Rey was no longer that girl.

 

 

Rey was confident, however, that Ben had not expected Rey's first act of making a healthier reality based decision to be turning him down . . .

 

 

Ben was not happy about it—not happy at all. But it did not matter how upset he was with her, Rey was not going back and was also not enabling Ben to wallow in his own dysfunctional choices anymore than he had left her to hers. Maybe someday Rey could return the favor and help Ben see that he deserved to live in the light of the truth too.

 

But for now, Rey had already learnt the hard way that while she could help him, inspire him, and encourage him—she could not change him.

 

At the end of the day only Ben could change and save himself.

 

 

 

With that thought on her mind, Rey stepped out of the forest to a by now familiar sight.

 

It had only taken Rey a few days of exploring to find Padmé’s tomb, and it frequently served as a destination for her training route through the forest, particularly on days Rey was alone. From the countenance of her face to the cascades of hair that had been chiseled into the stone, the death mask was a faithful rendition of the Padmé Rey had seen holos of in Aunt Sola’s sitting room. Rey could also see the likeness between Padmé and her daughter Leia. Sometimes Rey thought she could also see the family resemblance between grandmother and grandson. But, missing him terribly, that was likely just Rey’s own wishful thinking.

 

 

Padmé Amidala Naberrie secretly Skywalker.

 

 

With the majority of the attention directed at Anakin turned Vader, Padmé was the forgotten—and to many across the galaxy the unknown—party in past events. Rey knew, however, that Luke and Leia’s mother must have played a significant role in the affairs of the family with which the young Force user had become embroiled.

 

Rey sensed Padmé had possessed great strength. In living among her people and her family, Rey also found the former Queen of Naboo was still held in great esteem.

 

Unfortunately, the details of how this strong and beautiful woman had lost herself in her dysfunctional marriage, her husband’s madness, and his fall to the dark side had been lost to history.

 

Even so, in her own strikingly similar predicament, Rey wished could in some way elicit the help of this a woman from a generation long past. This woman who truly knew what it was to be in love with a monster.

 

 

Rey wondered too how Anakin—the Jedi Knight who had somehow made the same decision to reject the Jedi Code and be open to love that Rey herself had recently made—had gone from being the young man Padme’s family had all liked to the most hated man in the galaxy.

 

Chewie and her Alliance friends had tried to fill in the gaps of Rey’s knowledge of the Galactic Civil War and subsequent events. But even Threepio’s detailed accounts, which if he was feeling particularly verbose included sound effects, failed to satisfy Rey’s desire for more information about Anakin and Padmé.

 

Rey thought about asking Artoo, but although she could understand him surprisingly well, his beeps were not conducive to long narratives. Rey also reasoned that the little droid was unlikely to be able to contribute anything new to what Threepio could tell her in any of his over seven million forms of communication.

 

In the end Rey had had to accept that in spite of her fervent wish to know more about them, the answer to her burning question of what in the galaxy had happened to Anakin and Padmé Skywalker had also been lost to the past.

 

In her desire to learn from the past, Rey knew she was, unfortunately, alone. Ben—and for that matter the Luke she had met on Ahch-To—had both come to the same conclusion, and decided the only way forward was to reject the past, burn everything down, and start over. To Rey both nephew and uncle’s thinking was way off, and she unequivocally disagreed with both of them. As the rescued collection Jedi texts could attest, Rey wanted to build upon the past instead rejecting it.

 

 

Maybe then they could all stop repeating it.

 

 

 

The sun had set and the light was quickly fading, and Rey knew it was time to walk back across the bridge that was used for Padmé’s funeral procession, and head back to the palace.

 

Ending her time with Padmé as she usually did, Rey reached out to squeeze the statue’s hand that clutched a replica of a trinket—the real one with which Rey assumed Padmé had been buried.

 

This time, however, as her hand met the cold stone Rey suddenly found herself swept up in a Force vision.

 

 

Padmé lay on her back as a baby cried nearby, her hair was slick with sweat and tears ran down her face. “Anakin, help me,” she cried, the physical pain of childbirth eclipsed by her emotional agony.

 

“Obi-Wan . . . there’s good in him,” Padmé said, her breath still labored. “I know . . . I know there’s still-” Padmé’s final thought was left unfinished as her head fell to the side and she gave up her life spirit.

 

The scene shifted, and Rey saw herself standing on a familiar rocky cliff gazing at the desert beyond Niima Outpost, the sun having just set over the Jakku horizon. Rey saw that Anakin’s rebuilt lightsaber was in her hand. Something caught vision Rey’s attention and she looked to the right, but when Rey also turned the vision abruptly changed.

 

Rey now saw Poe flying his X-wing in the heat of battle—a battle that was not going well. As TIE fighters converged on him, suddenly Poe realized he was out of moves. The brash pilot had managed to escape certain doom so many times, but this was where it would all end. Poe steeled himself, and Rey watched in horror as the X-wing’s cockpit exploded into a fireball.

 

Rey was pulled through the flames and onto the bridge of a Starcruiser where the mood was equally grim and pandemonium reigned. Finn, Rose, and Connix were all near by, but an older dark skinned man Rey had never met was at the helm desperately calling out orders—until everything was engulfed in a flash of green light.

 

Rey blinked and green was replaced by orange. A lone figure stood on the edge of a black metal precipice that looked out upon rivers of fire cutting through the black landscape below.

 

Even with his back turned, Rey recognized him immediately. Abruptly Ben turned to face her and their eye’s immediately locked. But his had a yellow tinge that had not been there before.

 

“Ben!” Rey instinctively called out to him.

 

As he had in the throne room, Ben raised one hand to her.

 

Rey took a step towards him . . . but realized this time his hand was not extended in invitation a split second before he roughly pushed her away from him with the Force.

 

Caught off-guard Rey lost her balance, and as with the end of her first Force vision, she found herself on the ground.

 

 

Rey took a ragged breath and put a hand on the stone tomb to steady herself.

 

Replaying the Force vision in her mind, Rey had to tamp down her instinctual desire to rush off in all directions and rescue everyone.

 

The young Force user, however, had learnt her lesson about chasing after Force vision in the wake of rushing off to Ben onboard the _Supremacy_ , and was a lesson which had been reinforced by Luke’s recount of his disastrous rescue mission to Cloud City.

 

Besides—Finn, Poe, Rose, and the rest of the Alliance leaders were still on Naboo.

 

 

_Should she tell them about her vision?_

 

_Or would that be the same as rushing off and messing everything up?_

 

 

Unsure of what she was supposed to do, Rey reached out through the Force for Luke.

 

A moment later, the glowing form of her mentor appeared at her side.

 

Luke briefly shot an affectionate glance towards his mother’s stone likeness, before giving Rey his full attention and listening intently to the details of her Force vision.

 

Rey waited silently as Luke closed his eyes and mulled the situation over in his mind—it was a problem he had not exactly come up with the right answer to during his own earthly life.

 

“I think-” Luke opened his eyes and took a deep breath, “the important part of the vision is where you saw yourself.”

 

Rey worried her lip as she considered his words, and took a deep breath of her own before answering him.

 

“Then I need to go back to Jakku.”

 

 

\--------------------------------

 

 

“Sir, you asked to be informed when we arrived in the Mustafar system,” Peavey’s voice crackled over the COM.

 

“Thank you, Captain,” Kylo acknowledged before setting his comlink down and running a black gloved hand over his face.

 

Although now Supreme Leader, his new quarters aboard the _Vindicator_ were the same as they had been on the _Finalizer_. Also unchanged throughout his time with the First Order was how Kylo spent his time during hyperspace—sitting in a chair across from the chard remains of his grandfather’s mask.

 

“Well, we’re here,” Kylo said.

 

As usual, Vader’s mask made no reply.

 

 

Kylo’s recent venture into removing his own mask and opening himself up to another person had not ended well, and he was now back to wearing it.

 

Kylo turned to look down at his mask that was perched on one arm of his chair.

 

The mask he had smashed to bits in a fit of humiliated rage after Snoke had stripped him of it along with Kylo’s self worth. Even now his abusive master’s words still rang in this ears, “You’re no Vader—just a child in a mask.”

 

The mask that he had voluntarily removed for Rey and then his father.

 

The mask he had painstakingly reconstructed after Rey slammed the _Falcon’s_ door in his face on Crait.

 

 

Kylo had done a good job.

 

Except for lines of binding crystal that glowed red in the cracks, everything else was repaired or replaced to the mask’s original condition. It again served to keep his facial expressions and emotions safely hidden and himself closed off from everyone around him.

 

Except Kylo found in hindsight it had been somewhat liberating to not be trapped in its confines, and he quickly discovered that wearing it was no longer comfortable. For one thing it severely restricted his ability to see clearly.

 

The first thing Kylo did whenever he was safely alone, therefore, was remove it and take a deep breath.

 

 

But now he had arrived at his destination and it was time to put it back on.

 

 

Taking a ragged breath, Kylo did so.

 

 

The unpleasant task accomplished, Kylo then carefully transferred Vader’s mask to a protective box, which he secured in a satchel that he slung over his shoulder.

 

Kylo donned his new more Vader-like cape, reflexively checked to make sure his red lightsaber was clipped to his belt, and strode from the room to make his way down to the main hanger.

 

The black Upsilon class shuttle was parked in the center of the hanger. Its massive wings standing straight up in the air, it towered over the other ships.

 

Kylo approached the lowered gangplank where the other Knights of Ren silently waited for him. He did not greet them as he strode aboard the ship. The Knights too said nothing, and wordlessly picking up their bags of supplies they followed Kylo up the ramp.

 

Normally the command shuttle required at least two pilots. Kylo, however, had no intention of bringing along a crew, and flew the ship alone by manipulating controls with the Force that were out of his physical reach. At his touch the shuttle rose off the ground, its wings tilting out words until the ship took on its raptor-like appearance in flight. Kylo steered it carefully out of the hanger.

 

“Captain, we’re clear. Stay alert to any incoming threats,” Kylo relayed his parting instructions.

 

“Yes, sir. A safe journey, sir,” Captain Peavey replied from bridge of the _Vindicator_.

 

Although he did not know it yet, Captain Peavey would soon be Admiral Peavey—at the rapidly approaching point in time when Kylo removed Hux from power.

 

As a powerful Force user, it had not been difficult for Kylo to pick out which officers and crewers preferred him—or literally anyone—over Hux as the First Order’s new Supreme Leader. He assigned most of them to the task force accompanying him to Mustafar, confident in their loyalty when it came to safeguarding their coordinates from Hux. The rest, like an unhappy Mitaka, Kylo had left aboard the _Supremacy_ to keep an eye on his conniving adversary. Kylo hoped it was enough to keep Hux out of serious trouble until he returned.

 

With the _Vindicator_ and the other Star Destroyers guarding the sky and the Knights along to cover his back, Kylo flew the ship down towards the fire and brimstone planet below.

 

 

According to the Imperial archives, it was the constant gravitational pull of two nearby gas giants that created Mustafar’s signature volcanic volatility. The Outer Rim planet’s lava was apparently quite rich in rare minerals needed to build starships, and with the help of the native Mustafarians the challenging operation of mining had carried on through the end of the Clone Wars and into the rise of the Empire.

 

The gravitational pull also created a state of constant electromagnetic fluctuation that rendered long range scans of the planet useless. Mustafar, therefore, was also an ideal location for secret meetings. It was long the favorite hangout of a variety of pre-Empire evildoers, most notably the Black Sun crime syndicate—before Vader moved in.

 

Kylo knew that after the Jedi had betrayed the Republic and had subsequently been destroyed, Mustafar was the site of the lightsaber duel between his grandfather and Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi—who had mentored both his grandfather and his uncle. It was the injuries Vader sustained at Obi-Wan’s hand that had led to the Sith Lord’s confinement in his signature life support body armor and iconic mask.

 

From space Mustafar appeared as a black sphere, which like Kylo’s own repaired mask, was cracked with glowing red streaks. As the Upsilon shuttle enter the atmosphere the lava fields came into more detailed relief. Although technically still day, the entire landscape was shrouded in the gloom of vog that made the lava appear to glow more brightly.

 

Kylo flew on in search of his more specific destination, and off in the distance a massive structure soon loomed above the horizon.

 

 

Vader’s Castle.

 

 

From what Kylo had gleaned from the Imperial archives, it was not only due to his personal history on Mustafar that Vader had chosen to build his fortress here. According to the lore surrounding the lava planet, Mustafar housed at its core a nexus for the dark side of the Force. Sensing the dark side energy growing stronger the closer the shuttle flew to the planet, Kylo agreed that was likely true.

 

Vader’s Castle sat on a cliff at the edge of a large lava field. Acting like a damn it appeared to harness the rage of the fiery river of molten rock for energy, before allowing the lava passed over the cliff in a single narrow stream.

 

As the shuttle approach, the passengers began to get a sense of just how large the fortress was. It was only when Kylo set the ship down on the landing platform and they all disembarked, however, that its truly massive scale could be appreciated.

 

By Kylo’s estimation, the citadel of stark brutalist design, with its twin spires towering over the landscape, rivaled any skyscraper on Hosnian Prime or any other planet.   Even then as he looked up at it, Vader’s Castle dwarfed any building Kylo had ever seen in sheer presence. The main tower was tuning fork in appearance, and seemed to pulse with further concentrated dark side energy.

 

 

Legend held that Vader had built his castle over an ancient Sith cave, and on the site of the Dark Lord‘s greatest defeat—by hand—with the sheer power of the dark side of the Force.

 

No matter how Vader had actually constructed it, the edifice stood as both an embodiment and attestation to the Sith Lord’s might.

 

 

As Kylo stood looking up at Vader’s Castle, he suddenly had a bad feeling about all of this.

 

 

He could sense this was not only a place of great power, but also of great isolation and misery. For a moment Kylo hesitated—part of him wanting to turn around, get back on his ship, and hightail it off Mustafar like a scalded Mynock.

 

It was also, however, a place of safety for him—which by that point was of paramount importance to Kylo.

 

Snoke had offered Kylo protection. But Snoke was a manipulative liar and Kylo told himself he was done listening to him.

 

 

No, the only one who was going to protect Kylo was himself.

 

 

Finally free from his abusive master, protecting himself was something Kylo could actually do—but for that he needed power.

 

As when he had looked down on Snoke’s newly severed body, the allure of power and the safety it would bring—something Kylo had never truly know while Snoke lived—was too much of a temptation for him to not reach out and grab.

 

 

Kylo was the New Vader.

 

He had Vader’s blood, his powers, his mask, and now Vader’s Castle.

 

 

And soon Kylo would have the full power of the dark side of the Force.

 

 

Tamping down his reservations, Kylo marched straight ahead along the wide path that lead from the landing platform into the citadel. The Knights followed silently after him.

 

The interior of the fortress was as intimidating as the exterior. The walls were lined with obsidian, its recognizable geometric pattern of black volcanic glass shimmering in the dim light. Gigantic stone carvings of macabre Sith religious reliefs also lined the walkways, and added to the deeply disturbing ambience.

 

Kylo imagined that anyone summoned here—even the most high-ranking Imperial officers—would have been quickly put in their place and sufficiently unsettled by the insanely uninviting fortress long before the Avatar of Evil himself had assaulted his guest with his presence.

 

The entry passage led to an audience chamber, which consisted in a metal catwalk suspended above the glowing river of lava. Most of the permlights that lined the walkway still glowed, and the room was eerily bottom lit by the glow from the lava below.

 

Kylo reached out through the Force, and eventually found the right control to raise the two huge metal shields doors and allow more light into the room. The large bay window to the side overlooked the bleak Mustafar landscape. The other one was directly opposite the chamber’s entrance door, and Kylo and the other Knights suddenly found themselves looking directly into the sun.

 

One side of his mouth turned up, as Kylo pictured Vader making a dramatic entrance—back lit by the sun, the shadow of his terrifying profile preceding him as steam swirled up from below.

 

 

The group moved on to the rest of the fortress, lightsabers in hand and alert to any threat. As the Knights went from room to room, however, they continued to find the castle deserted, and the only sound was that of the roiling lava outside periodically drowned out by metal doors sliding open to let them pass.

 

 

Midway up the tower, the turbolift opened onto what was clearly the castle’s command center. Constructed on a massive suspension bridge, the large platform hung in the center of the room, and filled most of the large chamber. A series of short catwalks connected the outer walkway circling the inside wall of the tower with the main area, like spokes of a wheel. There were no windows to open on this level, and the main light source was the lava below, which bottom lit the huge chamber and cast a red glow on the walls.

 

What appeared to be much of the communications equipment from a Star Destroyer lined the outer rim of the platform, while the middle of the command center had strangely been left open.

 

 

At the far end of the bridge a raised command chair overlooked it all.

 

Kylo strode across the first catwalk, onto the platform, and without hesitation ascended the dais to take a seat on the throne-like command chair.

 

 

An exploration of the chairs built-in controls revealed why the majority of the room was left uncluttered and dimly lit, as with a touch of a button a holomap of the galaxy suddenly filled the center of the platform.

 

Spanning twenty meters across the hologram floated in the semidarkness. More precise than any map Kylo had ever seen or even heard of, it was as much an exquisite work of art as it was a tool. If his lieutenant had had such a map at his fingertips, Emperor Palpatine had undoubtedly had one like this with which to overview his domain.

 

Sculpted in an extraordinary level of detail, a single accurately positioned spot of light shone for each of the galaxy’s hundred billion stars. The major political regions including the Core systems, the Outer Rim Territories, Wild Space, the Unknown Regions were each delineated by a subtle encirclements of color. From the command chair the image could also be manipulated to highlight a particular sector, or be used to track a military campaign.

 

Even with his helmet limiting his vision, a detail of the map quickly caught Kylo‘s attention—a location in the galaxy burned into his memory long ago.

 

 

Alderaan was still present on Vader’s map.

 

 

Either Vader had not come back here after the Battle of Yavin—or for some reason the Dark Lord had not deleted that small point of light to reflect the post-Death Star reality of the galaxy.

 

It was an intriguing questions that did not have a ready answer, and Kylo turned off the map and rose from the chair, intent on finishing his exploration of the castle.

 

He made a mental note, however, to return and study the map more closely.

 

 

The rest of the rooms were for housing servants or storage, and were of little significance . . . except for one near the top.

 

It was clearly Vader’s inner sanctum. The alcoves for guardsmen that lined the edges of the room were expected. The Bacta tank Kylo found instead of a bed was not. It was located in the center of the Sith Lord’s dark haven with suspension cords and chains dangling over a single cylinder, which was still partially filled with the cloudy fluid of long corrupted Bacta.

 

There was something deeply disquieting about Vader choosing this tumultuous purgatory full of despair as his place of rejuvenation.

 

Kylo was struck with the dawning realization that there was a significant difference between knowing a great deal of information about Vader, and actually knowing his grandfather and what his life had been like. In spite of the heat from the surrounding lava, the implications of what he was learning sent a chill up Kylo’s spine.

 

 

It was not enough, however, to sway him from his dark purpose.

 

 

There was one more level to visit, but that one Kylo wanted to visit alone. As an excuse to end their group exploration, Kylo sent the Knights back to the shuttle to get their gear and supply of ration bars and water.

 

Kylo, himself, already carried the bag with the precious cargo of Vader’s mask.

 

The tower’s turbolift extended down into the rock of the fiery planet, lower even than the castle’s grisly dungeons. Kylo rode the turbolift car all the way to the bottom, and as the doors opened he was suddenly surrounded with pulsating red light.

 

From the Imperial archives, Kylo knew what he would find here—an ancient Sith cave. As with the castle itself, however, knowing what he would find and being confronted with the reality were two entirely different things.

 

The first part of the cave revealed where the disturbing Sith artwork in the castle’s corridors had come from, as some remained that had not been cut away and moved upstairs.

 

Kylo continued on into a far deeper part of the cave, and entering another chamber found the source of the red light—pit that opened up to the inferno and the dark side nexus at planet’s core. Surrounding the pit was a ring of jagged stalagmites and stalactites, along with a flat rock that was clearly meant for meditation.

 

Again tamping down his misgivings about the advisability of pursuing this path, Kylo took a seat.

 

Ignoring the stifling heat that rose from the molten hell and the steam that swirled around him, Kylo left his mask, cape, and gloves on. He removed Vader’s mask from the protective case, and enshrined it on the stone beside him.

 

 

Closing his eyes, Kylo reached out to the dark side of the Force.

 

 

Dark energy washed over him in pulsating waves. For the first time Kylo experienced what Snoke had never wanted him to—the full power of the dark side.

 

Despite roiling with anger, hate, fear, and misery, Kylo found it raw and intoxicating.

 

 

The dark side was indeed powerful.

 

Powerful enough to protect him from future attacks on his life and all physical harm.

 

Powerful enough to protect him from the emotional abandonment and rejection of those he loved.

 

Powerful enough to protect him from the finality of the hopelessness and disappointment that filled his heart.

 

Powerful enough to protect him from the truth that he was unlovable.

 

 

All the pain, rejection, humiliation, and violence he had endured throughout his life would not matter. He would be so mighty and powerful that no one would ever be able to hurt him again.

 

 

Kylo inhaled several deep breaths.

 

 

From the dark side’s well-repudiated impact on Vader, Kylo was surprised when he was filled not with rage but a coldness and hardening of his heart—and a deepening of his unforgiveness.

 

Beyond that, as he opened himself up fully to the Dark, a clear path opened up in his mind for what to do with the galaxy out to destroy him.

 

Opening his eyes, Kylo found his vision now swam in yellow.

 

Spurred by a sense it was time for action, Kylo rose, collected Vader’s mask, and return to the castle with new conviction.

 

 

 

The Knights had not yet returned, and Kylo was alone in the command center of the fortress. The holoprojector and the rest of communications equipment had been built to last, and even in an environment so hostile to electronics everything still worked all these decades later.

 

Sitting in Vader’s throne-like command chair, Kylo once again called up the map.   Being alone Kylo removed his mask to see better, and made short work of figuring out the holoprojector’s controls. He then set to work updating the map, altering the shading that delineated the territory of the long dead Empire, and laying the initial groundwork for his upcoming galaxy-wide campaign. He planned to seize control of all the star systems one by one. To finish what his grandfather had started and bring order, peace, and in particular safety to all the peoples of the galaxy—most especially himself.

 

While updating the map his hand briefly hovered over Alderaan. But just as he had not been able to fire with his sights trained on the bridge of the Raddus where his mother stood, Kylo found he could not make his finger pressed the command to delete.

 

As Vader had before him, Kylo left the speck of light representing Alderaan inaccurately in its proper place.

 

 

With his companions still leaving him to his productive solitude, Kylo was making good progress on the first phase of his military campaign—when all at once he felt a familiar sensation come over him.

 

 

All ambient noise suddenly disappeared.

 

 

A pit formed in Kylo’s stomach knowing what came next.

 

 

His chest constricted and he could barely breathe. It had been so long. And he thought no one could reach him here—that he was safely holed up in the stronghold of Vader’s Castle surrounded by his Knights.

 

 

Yet here was Rey, standing smack in the middle of his virtual plans for galactic domination.

 

 

In shock at her sudden appearance, Kylo’s yellow washed vision abruptly cleared.

 

Kylo’s heart clenched violently in his chest as he looked at Rey—in her current clothes a vision in white.

 

“Ben!” Rey’s voice was full of emotion.

 

In a reversal of their previous Force bond conversations, she took a step towards him.

 

 

And once again Kylo felt himself being torn apart.

 

 

Part of him wanted to fling himself at her feet and beg her to take him back.

 

But that part of him—the weak part—was easy to ignore in this place that was steeped with the dark side.

 

Kylo looked Rey straight in the eye and methodically put his mask back on.

 

Somehow the sound of it locking in place managed to sound just as loud as the clang of the _Falcon’s_ door closing in his face on Crait.

 

As he had then, Rey seemed to feel him remasking as a physical blow, and part of Kylo was satisfied with her pained expression.

 

The other part of him was dying in a far greater agony than Rey, herself, was experiencing.

 

“Ben Solo is dead,” he pressed on, his voice now the mechanical voice of Kylo Ren. “This is your last warning. If you get in my way, I will destroy you.”

 

Neither spoke for the few more heartbeats before the connection was mercifully broken.

 

When he was once again alone Kylo, quickly took off his mask, and exhaled the breath he had been holding.

 

 

He fervently hoped Rey had not sensed how much he still loved her.

 

 

\--------------------------------

 

 

In her guestroom on Naboo, Rey felt as though she had been kicked in the chest.

 

It was hard to imaging things getting much worse.

 

“Rey?”

 

Startled, Rey turned around and saw Finn, whom she had asked to come by so she could tell him about Jakku, standing in her doorway.

 

“Who were you talking to? Who is Ben?” Finn asked, a note of urgency in his voice.

 

 

Suddenly, Rey knew she had been wrong—things were about to get a lot worse.

 

 

It was as if Finn was pulling on a loose thread with his series of questions, and like an unraveling garment the part of her recent adventures that Rey had kept to herself slowly came out.

 

Finn’s reaction was everything Rey had hoped to avoid when she had not told him in the first place.

 

“How could you go to him, Rey?! Are you _insane_?!” Finn said, his anger rapidly escalated as he proceeded to list off only a partial list of Kylo’s most recent crimes.

 

“He’s an absolute beast!” Finn added as an impassioned conclusion, “And you’re acting like you’re in love with him!”

 

 

Rey’s only answer was a miserable expression.

 

 

“I don’t believe this! This is _not_ happening!” Finn briefly planted both palms on his face before he resumed pacing about the room.

 

“The reason I ask you to come by was to tell you I think I need to go back to Jakku,” Rey said. Her heart already bruised from the recent Force connection with Ben, she felt it was well past time to change the subject.

 

“Does this have something to do with _him_?!” Finn asked aggressively.

 

“No,” Rey quickly answered, “I need to try one more time to find answers about where I come from. I can’t explain it. It’s . . .” she searched for the right words but they would not come.

 

“Jedi stuff,” Finn finished for her, his anger finally starting to dissipate.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Do you want me to come with you?” was all Finn said, his voice again calm and full of its usual concern and support.

 

 

A knot deep inside of Rey that she had not been consciously aware existed uncoiled at Finn’s words.

 

Although vehemently disagreeing with her, Finn—her family—was not abandoning her even after learning of her less than perfect choices. It was solid footing that Rey had never known. It meant even though her path might again be diverging from Finn’s and the rest of the Rebellion’s, she was not loosing anything. In some way she could, therefore, both follow this latest call to adventure and keep her secure home base to which to return.

 

Tears welled up in Rey’s eyes with gratitude and relief at his offer. “I would like nothing better . . . but I think this is something I need to do alone.”

 

Finn nodded.

 

“I’ll try to be back in time for the attack, and meet you all at the rendezvous point,” Rey said.

 

Finn nodded again. “I’ll tell Poe,” he added.

 

They were both keenly aware, however, that there was also a lot Finn would not be telling Poe or any of the rest of their friends in the Rebellion.

 

“And let me at least help you load the _Falcon_.”

 

Rey gratefully accepted his help.

 

With the _Falcon_ brought out of deep storage and loaded, the two of them held each other in a long embrace before saying their final farewell. As Rey looked back at Finn once more from inside the ship, this time as they parted she had a terrible feeling she would never see him again. There was nothing to do, however, other than take her seat besides Chewie in the prepped _Falcon_ , and take off in a steep climb towards the comforting blackness of space.

 

 

It had been somewhat of a surprise to take off and find Artoo had very deliberately come along.

 

Although like Finn, BB-8 had been one of Rey’s first friends, the orange and white mechanical sphere was very much Poe’s astromech droid. As Rey’s path began to increasing deviate from that of the Rebels, she found herself less off in the company of Poe, Finn, and the little droid that had drawn her into this fight. While BB-8 was often away with Poe, Finn, and Rose, the droid with whom Rey now had the most contact was Artoo, and she had gotten to know him much better.

 

He was far older than BB-8, and had a seasoned wisdom and caginess about him. Rey had watched Artoo on more than one occasion use being overlooked as a droid and unintelligible to most people to his calculated advantage.

 

Beyond that he was incredibly good hearted.

 

When Artoo was not around to hear the history lessons he gave Rey, Threepio had absolutely gushed over Artoo and their adventures together during the Galactic Civil War. Rey had not realized what an integral role the golden protocol droid and his counterpart blue astromech droid had played in the original Rebel Alliance.

 

Threepio told her about everything from escaping Vader’s raiding party with the Death Star plans in an escape pod. Walking miles in the harsh Tatooine desert. Finding Master Luke, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and the crew of the _Millennium Falcon_ , which had unfortunately lead to more space travel. Rescuing Princess Leia and everyone from an Imperial trash compactor and certain doom. Artoo helping Master Luke blow up the Death Star. Freezing their joints solid on Hoth. Threepio impersonating a maintenance droid in an attempt to help fix the _Falcon’s_ broken hyperdrive. Being shot to bits by stormtroopers on Cloud City. Another horrible trip back to the sands of Tatooine, during which Master Luke _gave him and Artoo as a gift_ to Jabba the Hut while they were rescuing Captain Solo.   This was followed by an equally horrible trip to Endor, where the golden protocol droid endured the mortifying experiences of a bunch of Ewoks parading him around as a deity. And finally the battle for the Endor shield generator where Artoo had suffered great injury, but which had ended with his successful repair and the victory of the Rebellion over the Evil Empire.

 

Rey was a little surprised at how often both of the droids had been shot up or ripped apart, but refrained from commenting as this seemed to be one of the many subjects about which Threepio was quite touché.

 

Artoo and Threepio had also been around for the rise and fall of the New Republic, along with the rise of the Frist Order and the Resistance—and the tragedy that had befallen their family. Threepio had said his counterpart had shut down in grief after Luke had left, and Rey remembered Artoo had been there in her vision of the night Ben had burned down the Jedi training temple.

 

But as with so much about Artoo, Rey wondered if there was more to the story.

 

Whatever his reasons for shutting down, Artoo seemed to have somehow caught up on the events he had missed while in low power mode. The little droid was also remarkably good at putting together the pieces, and somehow in his quiet way seemed to understand exactly what was going on to a far greater extent than most people.

 

Rey had understood when Artoo had come with her and Chewie to find Luke. That had made sense to Rey as Artoo had been Luke’s astromech droid and companion throughout the Civil War, and for years afterward. Although neither had said anything to her, Rey was beginning to wonder if Artoo had had some part in Luke abruptly changing his mind about teaching her.

 

After Luke had passed on, who to Rey’s knowledge had been Artoo’s most recent master, Rey thought Artoo would prefer to stay with Threepio. She was getting the sense, however, that the little droid had a vested interest in her journeys that extended well beyond finding Luke.

 

Exactly what, Rey had no idea.

 

Whatever his motivation, the little droid—like everything else that had once belonged to a Skywalker or Solo—had apparently decided to be hers.

 

Already regretting turning down Finn’s offer to come to Jakku, Rey found she was happy to be surrounded by all the friends she could muster.

 

 

\--------------------------------

 

 

Night had fallen on Mustafar.

 

Although the other Knights were camped out in the command room, Kylo wanted to be alone, and had installed himself in one of the servant’s chambers.

 

He certainly was not going back into Vader’s abode with the Bacta tank.

 

There were no mirrors in the entire castle, but Kylo had a feeling that he likely looked awful. He washed his face, and prepared to try and sleep. With the addition of the heat to his already chronic insomnia, Kylo was not anticipating being successful.

 

He sighed.

 

A New Vader—Snoke and everyone else had called him that for a long time. Kylo was now free to fully finish what his grandfather started, and fulfill both their destinies.

 

He could not shake the feeling, however, he was missing something important.

 

 

Kylo had beseeched his grandfather many times to show him the power of the dark side, a prayer that had consistently gone unanswered. Overwhelmed by this place and his encounter with Rey, all that came out of his mouth in that movement where the heartfelt words, “I wish you were here to help me.”

 

From behind him Kylo suddenly heard the eerie sound of mechanical breathing.

 

He quickly spun around—but to his disappointment found he continued to be alone.

 

 

That night, however, he did sleep.

 

 

That was the night of the dream . . .

 

 

\---------------------

 

Mustafar (Art of Rogue One)

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you as always for reading. Comments and kudos are much appreciated.
> 
> The holomap of the galaxy is taken from The Last Command (last book in the Thrawn Trilogy) by Timothy Zahn. In the EU both Palpatine and Thrawn have one of the special holomaps, and it would make sense to me if Vader had one too.
> 
> I love the symbolism of Ben spending all his free time repairing his Kylo Ren mask, and Rey spending all her free time repairing the Skywalker legacy lightsaber.
> 
> If anyone is interested, here is something I posted about why I am happy with Rey’s characterization and arc so far in both TFA and TLJ.
> 
> https://jp2187.tumblr.com/post/183039694323/happy-with-rey
> 
>  
> 
> Next chapter is all Anakin!
> 
> And now I’m off to do my taxes . . . 
> 
> \------------------
> 
> Acknowledgment of works of commentary that contributed ideas significantly included in this chapter:
> 
> The Art of Rogue One: A Star Wars Story by Josh Kushins, page 172-189.
> 
> From GREEN Jedi World to MOLTEN Dark Side Planet - Mustafar History Explained - Star Wars Planets by MetaNerdz Lore https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8zsZbgU72ts
> 
>  
> 
> LOTS Podcast: Why Kylo is the Protagonist of The Last Jedi  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=381i4H7nA0M&t=2014s
> 
> LOTS Podcast: How Will Kylo Redeem Himself?  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VBo--5T9Qmk&t=1640s
> 
> LOTS Podcast: Psychology of the Characterization: Kylo Ren  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DsdViE8mse4&t=2s
> 
> LOTS Podcast: Reylo vs. Anidala - Couple Contrasts in Star Wars  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xdnZHfFf2-A&t=3s
> 
> LOTS Podcast: Rey and Reylo: Psychology of the Characterization  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rP0NTri4fB8&t=3480s
> 
> LOTS Podcast: Mended Mask for Kylo, Rey and Kylo battle, and more spoilers for Episode IX  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wsWh41Xt2Zs
> 
> LOTS Podcast: Episode IX Leaked Concept Art Discussion  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=__RkvMtXcFI&t=2s
> 
> 6°KR Podcast: Mask of the Red Death PSA  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/16060415/chapters/37497101#workskin
> 
> 6°KR Podcast: That's a Wrap! Star Wars Episode IX Costume Leak and Wrap Photo  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6s2a3aI9cuU&t=52s
> 
>  
> 
> Artwork: Art of Rogue One, page 172, movie still from Revenge of the Sith


	10. Anakin Skywalker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here he is in all of his glorious Padme crushing, sand hating, adolescent ridiculousness! (Trying not to excessively fangirl and failing miserably).
> 
> Aka the tale of Anakin Skywalker covering TPM and AOTC including deleted scenes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again I am so sorry it took me so long to get this posted. I realized I really could not do Anakin’s character justice without including Clone Wars Anakin (stay tuned for the next chapter . . .), and I had to drop everything and quickly binge watch as much of the Clone Wars as I could before it got pulled off Netflix.

 

 

 

**Chapter 10: Anakin Skywalker**

 

 

A beautiful girl sat in the tall grass. Her form fitting gossamer dress, the perfect shade of yellow, spilled over her legs and covered all but her feet. Part of her impossibly long hair was up in buns, with the rest cascading down her back. A few loose strands escaped to frame her face as she smiled up at him.

 

Her image shifted to an array of other outfits and hair styles, including his favorite—her hair hanging loose over her bare shoulders.

 

Every variation of her appearance was accompanied by the same sense of overwhelming adoration and love.

 

 

He had been struck by her otherworldly beauty from the first moment he saw her.

 

She clearly did not belong in the harsh Tatooine desert, and in his child’s logic he thought she was some celestial being in what turned out to be one of her simplest outfits.

 

“Are you and angel? Their the most beautiful creatures in the galaxy,” he asked her.

 

“You’re a funny little boy,” she replied before asking, “How long have you been here?”

 

He answered her without hesitation, “Since I was very little. Three I think. My mom and I were sold.”

 

She was taken aback, “You’re a slave?”

 

He was not used to feeling embarrassed about his social status, but something about the ways she said that rubbed him the wrong way. He had replied with at the time uncharacteristic defensiveness, “I’m a person, and my name is Anakin.”

 

She smoothed things over with a polished answer, but the truth was, that raised in the posh and privileged society of a Republic Core World, Padmé was always a bit of a snob.

 

 

Later aboard a starship hurtling away from his home in the Outer Rim and his mother, however, Padmé found Anakin shivering as he experienced the cold of space for the first time, and she wrapped him in a blanket and consoled him. Anakin took the opportunity to give her the small japor snippet carving he had made for her. It was an insignificant token, but as a boy Anakin felt compelled to give her something so she would remember him.

 

“It’s beautiful,” Padmé pretended graciously, “But I don’t need this to remember you by. Many things will change when we reach the Capital, Ani. But my caring for you will remain.”

 

 

He held onto those words every day for ten years.

 

 

Until the day Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi and his padawan Anakin Skywalker had out of the blue been assigned to protect now Senator Padmé Amidala after an assassination attempt.

 

To Anakin the thought of actually seeing Padmé again was both exhilarating and terrifying.

 

Obi-Wan of course did not understand. Lacking any actually helpful advice all he had to say was, “You’re sweating. Relax. Take a deep breaths.”

 

Anakin tried taking deep breaths as he readjusting his cloak for the umpteenth time.

 

It did not help.

 

He had been dreaming about seeing Padmé again for an entire decade. Compared to all the scenarios that ran through Anakin’s mind as the turbolift ascended towards her suite, their actual reunion was a severe disappointment.

 

Although a slave and fairly young boy, Anakin had still managed to rescue then Queen Amidala from her dire predicament when Naboo was invaded and she was stranded on Tatooine while fleeing to Coruscant. Later he, Artoo, and a Naboo starfighter had also done more than their part to help Padmé defeat the droid army invading her home world. Anakin hoped she would remember that.

 

 

_She didn’t._

 

 

“Ani?! My goodness you’ve grown,” Padmé said, dropping the respectful tone with which she addressed Obi-Wan, and sounding a little shocked.

 

In the first of what would be many times Anakin succeeded only in coming on too strong, sticking his foot in his mouth, and generally creeping her out, he tried to pay her a compliment.

 

“So have you. Grown more beautiful, I mean. Well for a Senator I mean—”

 

It came out completely wrong, and only made things awkward.

 

Padmé defused the situation by throwing cold water on his hopes, “Ani, you’ll always be that little boy I knew on Tatooine.”

 

Even then Anakin could not take his eyes off her. Not really listening to anyone else, he unthinkingly promised Padmé whatever she wanted, to the contradiction of what Obi-Wan apparently just said. The result was another awkward scene—a public rehashing of the Jedi and his padawan’s old argument about Anakin overstepping his role and not following his master’s lead, which ended with Obi-Wan putting Anakin in his place in front of Padmé.

 

 

Barely past the trials to become a Jedi Knight himself when he took Anakin as his apprentice, Obi-Wan had done his best to fulfill his own master’s dying wish that Anakin be trained as a Jedi. In the rigidity of youth and not fully prepared to be a master, however, Obi-Wan seemed to take a page out of Master Windu’s book, and his idea of good training was being overly critical, authoritative, and unreasonable.

 

Furthermore, when it came to managing emotions Obi-Wan often seemed unable to give Anakin any concrete practical help beyond stating the obvious and giving vague instructions, including Anakin’s personal favorite, “You’re focusing on the negative, Anakin. Be mindful of your thoughts.”

 

A good master would have helped Anakin develop into his own person, even if it meant Anakin grew beyond his mentor’s capabilities. Obi-Wan, insecure in his teaching role and concerned that if he was not the superior Force user on some level he would no longer have anything to teach Anakin, held Anakin back in the subservient role of a student and took every opportunity to put Anakin in his place—even public.

 

Obi-Wan’s put downs, however, had the opposite effect from the one the Jedi intended as they drove Anakin to push back, and grow in defensive pride and arrogance.

 

At its core their dynamic was more one of bickering brothers rather than master and padawan learner.

 

 

Obi-Wan was like a brother to him, but what Anakin really needed was a father.

 

 

Both Anakin and Obi-Wan knew that if he had still been alive Qui-Gon would have been in charge of Anakin’s training. Qui-Gon’s death during his fight with Darth Maul on Naboo during the invasion had had a lasting impact on Anakin’s fate. Anakin often wondered how differently his life would have been if the older and wiser man was instructing him.

 

Qui-Gon was not afraid to defy the Jedi leadership and the Code to follow his conscience—at the cost of a seat on the Council. The older man, furthermore, had been so sure that Anakin was the fabled Chosen One, sent to bring balance to the Force, that he had flat out demanded Anakin be trained as a Jedi.

 

Anakin still did not know how he felt about the prophecy. Most of the time he just felt conflicted and torn between believing in his life of service with the Jedi and deep homesickness. He was also not sure how he was supposed to balance the Force when he himself was becoming increasingly off kilter, and felt frustrated with Obi-Wan’s best effort but still insufficient teaching.

 

Although the older man believed he was the Chosen One, Anakin had a feeling Qui-Gon might have pulled the plug on his training when he saw how unbalanced Anakin was becoming. Perhaps the Jedi Master would even have sent Anakin back to his mother, who Anakin was not supposed to miss or regret leaving, but whom he did so with every fiber of his being.

 

With the final say on all decisions of the Council, the responsibility and blame for the situation ultimately rested on the shoulders of Master Yoda. Anakin often wished the Jedi Master would do a better job of following the old Jedi proverb of “do, or do not, there is no try,” where Anakin’s formation as a Jedi was concerned.

 

Master Yoda had known Anakin’s training was going to be tricky from the beginning because of his age. Qui-Gon could have done it, but Qui-Gon was dead. And instead of either refusing to let Anakin be trained, entrusting him to one of the experienced Jedi Masters—or best yet doing it himself—Master Yoda had pick the middle road of letting the young and completely inexperienced Obi-Wan be Anakin’s teacher. It was the worst of the available options, and Anakin and Obi-Wan had been making the best of a less than ideal situation ever since.

 

 

Left with Obi-Wan as his main and insufficient father figure, Anakin found himself drifting towards the other person whom had come into his life along with Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, and Padmé. Chancellor Palpatine was liberal with the encouragement Anakin needed, and which Obi-Wan and the Jedi Council would not give him.

 

Upon telling the Chancellor of his new assignment to escort Padmé home to Naboo and protect her after another assassination attempt, Palpatine had been enthusiastic in his excitement for the young Force user.

 

“And so . . . they’ve finally given you an assignment! Your patience has paid off.”

 

Anakin attempted to maintain the proper humility and gratitude befitting a Jedi and replied, “Your guidance more than my patience.”

 

Palpatine only scoffed at that, “You don’t need guidance, Anakin. In time you will learn to trust your feelings. Then you will be invincible. I have said it many times: you are the most gifted Jedi I have ever met. I see you becoming the greatest of all the Jedi . . . even more powerful than Master Yoda.”

 

Anakin sometimes felt something was a bit off in the Chancellor’s grandiose praise, but without anything else to compare it to and starving for validation he let his mild concern pass to the back of his mind.

 

Chancellor Palpatine after all was a good man.

 

 

It was a strange and murky time for the Jedi. They felt the dark side rising to obscure their vision in the Force, and impede their efforts to unravel mystery of an elusive Sith Lord that had recently emerged. In an atmosphere where all seemed to be shadowy smoke and mirrors, it was hard for Anakin to tell what was going on, and notice if his actions were his own or if he was being unwittingly pushed in a specific direction to benefit an unseen dark hand.

 

Anakin could also not shake the vague sense that somehow he was being watched—and had been throughout his training—or the whisper in the back of his mind that there were unseen snares being set in a trap directed specifically at him.

 

He also felt deeply conflicted about his new assignment. On the one hand he was ecstatic to finally be given one on his own, and enthralled by the intoxicating prospect of spending more time with Padmé. On the other, he knew that sending him off alone with her and expecting him to follow the Jedi Code against attachments was too much to ask of him.

 

Qui-Gon would have immediately seen the danger and not allowed Anakin to be put in such a position. Even Obi-Wan knew it was a bad idea. But Master Yoda and the rest of the Jedi Council who signed off on the mission were not as wise as Qui-Gon would have been. They ignored Anakin’s feelings and Obi-Wan’s warning about the temptation into which they were thrusting the young Force user.

 

The Sith Lord, who was now stalking Anakin and who had set off the series of events that resulted in the young padawan being assigned as Padmé’s sole bodyguard, was not ignoring Anakin’s emotions . . . but expertly manipulating them.

 

Master Yoda and the rest of the Jedi Master’s had made up their mind, however, and under orders from the Jedi Council and with Artoo as insufficient chaperone, Anakin and Padmé were packed off to Naboo.

 

 

Padmé herself was not happy with the arrangement. Already infuriated about having to run away and hide when the Military Creation Act bill she had fought so long and hard against was nearing a vote, Padmé was also less than thrilled to be stuck with Anakin and his often unwanted attention.

 

She had initially attempted to handle the situation as she had at their initial reunion. While hastily packing in her official residence and listening to Anakin’s complaints that Obi-Wan was deliberately holding him back, Padmé remarked, “Anakin, don’t try to grow up too fast,” in an another attempt to continue to cast him as the little boy she had met on Tatooine.

 

“But I am grown,” Anakin stood to tower over her. He then looked deeply into her eyes—a move which rendered her efforts less successful this time.

 

“Don’t look at me like that,” Padmé switched to more direct tactics.

 

“Why not?” Anakin said, more than a little miffed.

 

“It makes me feel uncomfortable,” was her blunt reply, before she turned and walked out of the room.

 

As they parted ways with her attaché, however, Anakin was pleased to hear Padmé assuage her handmaid’s fears about her attackers following her to Naboo by stating, “Well then my Jedi protector will have to prove how good he is.”

 

The smile she flashed him as she said it, moreover, set his all inappropriate hopes full sail once again.

 

 

The journey also gave Anakin the opportunity to practice conversing with Padmé without sticking his foot in his mouth . . . well less often anyway.

 

Over dinner on the public transport they were taking back to Naboo, Padmé commented, “It must be difficult having sworn your life to the Jedi. Not being able to visit the places you like, or do the things you like.”

 

 _“Like I’m still a slave,”_ Anakin thought.

 

He did not, however, voice the words that periodically rose to the back of his mind, but instead seized the opening to the conversation he would rather have.

 

“Or be with the people that I love?” Anakin said, again looking intensely into her eyes.

 

“Are you allowed to love? I thought that was forbidden for a Jedi,” Padmé asked, demonstrating her accurate knowledge of the Jedi Code.

 

“Attachment is forbidden. Possession is forbidden. Compassion, which I would define as unconditional love, is central to a Jedi’s life. So you might say we are encouraged to love,” Anakin replied—demonstrating in his skewed logic that for a non-politician he was still remarkably skilled at the art of spin.

 

“You’ve changed so much,” Padmé continued.

 

“You haven’t changed a bit,” Anakin replied before unfortunately adding, “You’re exactly the way I remember you in my dreams.”

 

 

He was, on the other hand, not very good at flirting.

 

 

Anakin’s confidence was steadied, however, by the fact that no matter what stupid words came out of his mouth, by decree of the Jedi Council Padmé could not send him away. By the time they reached Naboo he found he could hold a normal conversation with her.

 

Padmé seemed to be actually enjoying his company as they walked among the beautiful buildings of Theed towards the palace and nearby waterfalls.

 

Anakin confided in Padmé how homesick and lonely he was when he started training with the Jedi, “but I’d always feel better when I thought about the palace.”

 

 _“And you,”_ Anakin added to himself, at last managing to stop a thought from leaving his mouth that would turn their conversation awkward.

 

Padmé reciprocated with a memory of her own, “When I first saw the capital I was very young, and I’d never seen a waterfall before. I thought they were so beautiful. I’d never dreamed that one day I’d be living in the palace.”

 

“Tell me . . . did you dream of power and politics when you were a little girl?” Anakin asked.

 

“No, that was the last thing I thought of!” Padmé answered, her voice light and full of mirth, before again turning serious. “I wasn’t the youngest Queen ever elected, but now that I think back on it I’m not sure I was old enough. I’m not sure I was ready,” she reflected on being elected to lead her people at the age of fourteen.

 

“The people you served thought you did a good job. I heard they even tried to amend the constitution so you could stay in office,” Anakin countered.

 

“Popular rule is not democracy, Ani. It gives the people what they want, not what they need,” she chided before continuing.

 

“I was relieved when my two terms were up. So were my parents. They were very worried about me during the blockade—they couldn’t wait for it all to be over. Actually, I’d hope to have a family of my own by now. My sister has the most amazing, wonderful kids,” Padmé continued, turning their conversation surprisingly personal. “But when the Queen asked me to serve as Senator I could not refuse her.”

 

“I agree with her. I think the Republic needs you. I’m glad that you choose to serve,” Anakin replied, motivated in no small part by the fact that her job in the Senate had apparently stopped her from settling down with someone else.

 

 

At last they reached the palace, and Anakin found himself standing silent guard behind Padmé as she discussed the current situation in the Senate with the ornately decorated current Queen and the Naboo governing council. Padmé expressed her concern that if the Senate created an army it would push the Republic into a civil war.

 

“It’s unthinkable,” one of the Council members replied, “There hasn’t been a full scale war since the formation of the Republic.”

 

“Do you see any way through negotiations to bring the Separatists back into the Republic?” the Queen asked Padmé.

 

“Not if they feel threatened,” Padmé replied, “My guess is they will turn to the Trade Federation or the Commerce Guild for help.”

 

This elicited a new round of outrage from the Council that after numerous trials the leaders of the Trade Federation who were responsible for invading Naboo ten years ago were still in power and remained unpunished.

 

“I fear the Senate is powerless to resolve this crisis,” a Councilman said, voicing the opinion of many of his colleagues.

 

“We must keep our faith in the Republic,” the Queen countered, “The day we stop believing democracy can work is the day we lose it.”

 

Anakin could not help himself from internally scoffing at her words.

 

 

The conversation then turned to Padmé’s safety.

 

“What is your suggestion, Master Jedi?” one of the older Council members asked Anakin.

 

“Oh, Anakin’s not a Jedi yet,” Padmé interjected, “He’s just a padawan learner. But I was thinking-”

 

“Hold on a minute-” Anakin protested.

 

“Excuse me,” Padmé interrupted him before again addressing the Queen, “I was thinking I would stay in the Lake Country. There are some places up there that are very isolated-”

 

“Excuse me, I’m in charge of security here, milady,” Anakin himself interrupted, quickly becoming incensed by her dismissive attitude.

 

“And this is my home. I know it very well. That is why we are here. I think it would be wise if you took advantage of my knowledge in this instance,” Padmé insisted in an extremely patronizing tone.

 

Taking a deep breath, Anakin bit his tongue, plastered a cordial smile on his face and said, “Sorry milady.”

 

 

Obi-Wan would be proud of him.

 

 

 

Although she had assumed the official name of Amidala when she was elected Queen, Padmé’s family name was Naberrie. As they left the palace it was to the Naberrie family home that Padmé next led Anakin and Artoo so she could collect more things she would need for her time in hiding.

 

As they walked, Anakin had time to reflect on the woman he had idealized and put on a pedestal for the last ten years.

 

No longer wearing the elaborate regalia and face paint of “Queen Amidala,” Padmé appeared to still wear a mask of office. Anakin was finding that arguing with Senator Amidala in her official capacity, particularly when there was an audience, was a fast way to get himself put in his place. In private, however, Padmé Naberrie was still the warm and caring woman he had fallen in love with all those years ago. Anakin found, moreover, that the more time they spent together the more of a glimpse under her mask and into Padmé’s very personal private life he got to see.

 

She led them down a series of streets with stone archways until Anakin was thoroughly lost. They came to a modest but elegant house—there were not any other kind here from what Anakin could see—and stopped.

 

“This is my house,” Padmé announced with a happy smile.

 

Two laughing little girls suddenly tumbled out of a door and clambered down the steep stone stairs.

 

“Ryoo! Pooja!” Padmé exclaimed, before stooping to embrace them.

 

Watching Padmé greet her nieces, Anakin smiled.

 

The little girls’ attention was soon captured by Artoo, who they found fascinating. Still laughing they ran around the droid, who obligingly chased them in circles.

 

Once inside Padmé introduced Anakin to her parents, Ruwee and Jobal, and to her sister Sola. Her family was welcoming and seemed to like him, for which Anakin was grateful. Anakin also came to the realization that Padmé came from a more modest background than he had previously thought.

 

 

They had arrived just in time for dinner. Anakin could not remember the last family dinner to which he had been. Actually he could—his last night with his mother on Tatooine.

 

Padmé had been at that one too.

 

“Did you know Anakin you’re the first boyfriend my sister has ever brought home,” Solo warmly engaged him in conversation.

 

Anakin was delighted to here Padmé had not brought anyone else to meet her family. The speed with which she corrected her family’s misconception and clarified that he too was not her boyfriend, however, was a bit off putting—even if she did acknowledge they had personal ties.

 

“He’s not my boyfriend. Anakin’s a friend, we’ve know each other for years,” Padmé told her family, before nonchalantly adding, “He’s a Jedi assigned to me by the Senate to protect me.”

 

This was apparently news to the Naberries.

 

“A bodyguard! Oh Padmé, they didn’t tell us it was that serious,” her mother Jobal exclaimed.

 

“It’s not, I promise. I’m not in any danger, Mom,” Padmé soothingly replied.

 

Padmé’s family, however, was well acquainted with Padmé’s tendency to minimize and ignore inconvenient truths, and had no intention of taking her view of the situation at face value.

 

“Is she?” Padmé’s father asked Anakin.

 

“Yes, I’m afraid she is,” Anakin replied with blunt honesty.

 

The mood after that was somber, and everyone quickly finished eating.

 

 

While Padmé joined her mother and sister in clearing the table, her father asked Anakin to join him for a walk in the garden. Anakin knew Ruwee was likely looking for an opportunity to get Anakin’s unvarnished assessment of the situation regarding his daughter, and after making small talk for a few minutes the older man finally got to the burning question on his mind.

 

“So tell me son, how serious is this thing. How much danger is my daughter really in?”

 

“There have been two attempts on her life. Chances are there will be more,” Anakin answered.

 

“I don’t want anything to happen to her,” Ruwee was visibly worried.

 

“I don’t either,” Anakin replied.

 

The fact that Padmé’s father valued Anakin’s opinion and seemed steadied by his presence to protect his daughter meant a lot to Anakin.

 

That Anakin could feel Padmé’s gaze on him from a nearby window was also extremely welcome.

 

 

Later Anakin found that talking with Padmé in her childhood bedroom was night and day from the last conversation they had had while she was packing.

 

“So you still live at home,” Anakin commented while looking at the holos on her wall.

 

“I move around so much I’ve never had a place of my own. Official residences have no warmth. I feel good here. I feel at home,” Padmé replied.

 

“I’ve never really had a home. Home was always where my mom was,” Anakin said, his heart briefly constricting in pain as it did whenever he thought of his mother.

 

Padmé joined him when he reached a holo of her playing with some alien children, who had been relocated after their planet died.

 

“They were never able to adapt and live off their native planet,” Padmé said sadly.

 

 _“Kind of like me,”_ Anakin thought.

 

 

 

Soon Padmé was packed, and after saying goodbye to her parents and sister, Anakin and Padmé headed off to the Naboo Lake Country. They both seemed acutely aware, however, that something had shifted between them after Padmé took him home to meet her family.

 

As insensitive to his predicament as the Jedi Council had been, Anakin also soon found that Padmé was far worse.

 

While her chosen destination was as promised remote and safely isolated—the beautiful villa surrounded by lush foliage was also incredibly romantic. Padmé too seemed to get a lot prettier, and while it was likely a trick of the Naboo light, Anakin could not recall her wearing that shade of lipstick on Coruscant. He also discovered that Padmé’s clothing choices were very different from those of Senator Amidala—in the Senate she would never have dreamed showing that much skin.

 

It was all too much for Anakin, who was not able to keep his hands and his lips off her for even one day.

 

He somehow managed to turn his comparison between the coarseness of sand and the smooth softness of everything on Naboo into an excuse to caress her bare shoulder.

 

And then kiss her.

 

For a few glorious seconds Padmé kissed him back—before abruptly pulling away and telling him she should not have kissed him, much to Anakin’s disappointment.

 

His fears that she would push him away for crossing the line were quickly abated, however, as the next day Anakin found himself joining Padmé for a romantic picnic in a field of tall grass surrounded by waterfalls.

 

They talked of a myriad of things—including first loves and first kisses, which was unfair since she was his only love and his first kiss had been with her the day before.

 

Their conversation also briefly turned to politics—and the first of many disagreements over the best system of government they would have over the years.

 

“I don't think the system works,” Anakin said.

 

“How would you have it work?” Padmé asked.

 

Being able to express a deeply held opinion that was likely different from hers was a big step for Anakin, and it seemed to increase her opinion of him. Anakin also appreciated that, unlike Obi-Wan, Padmé was genuinely interested in what he thought.

 

“We need a system where the politicians sit down and discuss the problem, agree what's in the best interest of all the people, and then do it,” Anakin said matter-of-factly.

 

“That's exactly what we do. The trouble is that people don't always agree,” Padmé countered.

 

“Well, then they should be made to,” Anakin argued.

 

“By whom? Who's going to make them?” Padmé was incredulous.

 

“I don't know. Someone,” Anakin replied.

 

“You?” Padmé asked.

 

“Of course not me,” Anakin replied, his tone making it clear he thought that was preposterous.

 

“But someone,” Padmé continued.

 

“Someone wise,” Anakin said.

 

“Sounds an awful lot like a dictatorship to me,” Padmé responded.

 

“Well . . . if it works . . .” Anakin stated with a small smile.

 

For a moment there was a new tension between them—which Padmé defused by choosing to believe that Anakin was joking.

 

Then she was back to shamelessly flirting with him, and their afternoon ended with a tumble through the tall grass, and her landing on top of him.

 

 

 

After that Padmé’s maddening mixed messages only escalated.

 

“Ani” was no longer meant as a put down to remind him he was just a boy, but a welcome term of endearment. All their meals turned into meals for two, where Anakin frequently charmed her with parlor trick versions of his Force powers.

 

In unwisely sending him here, the Jedi Council had been merely oblivious to his feelings. Anakin began to realize, however, that Padmé knew exactly what she was doing, and in spite of her earlier protestations, on some level his attention was no longer unwanted.

 

 

Finding himself in a room lit only by firelight again alone with Padmé, who sat near to him on a couch wearing yet another dress made of yards and yards of fabric but which still barely managed to cover her—Anakin was done.

 

He told Padmé he could not go on this way. He professed his long abiding love, which turned being around her into the most agonizing of tortures. Anakin promised Padmé with deep conviction that he would be scarred for life from the kiss she had cut short—a life that would not be lasting much longer anyway as the mere thought of not being with her was causing him to die of asphyxiation.

 

Anakin laid it on extremely thick, and he sensed he was finally getting under Padmé’s skin.

 

“If you are suffering as much as I am, please tell me,” he entreated.

 

“I can’t. We can’t. It’s just not possible,” Padmé said in a tone of genuine regret.

 

“Anything is possible, Padmé. Listen to me,” Anakin said imploringly, again inching and leaning closer to her as he had been throughout their entire conversation.

 

Finally out of room on the couch to back away from him, Padmé stood and walked to the other side of the room. She proceeded to angrily list all the practical reasons why they could not go down this path—specifically that he was a Jedi and she was a Senator—“regardless of the way we feel about each other.”

 

All Anakin heard was his feelings for her were reciprocated, and he rose and crossed to Padmé’s side.

 

“Believe me, I wish I could just wish away my feelings, but I can’t,” Anakin said bitterly.

 

“I will not give into this,” Padmé said, again renewing her resolve.

 

Sensing the door closing, Anakin changed tactics and uttered the fateful words that would someday impact not only their lives but also the entire galaxy.

 

“Well you know it wouldn’t have to be that way . . . we could keep it a secret.”

 

“We’d be living a lie!” Padmé was horrified, “One we couldn’t keep even if we wanted to. I couldn’t do that. Could you Anakin? Could you live like that?”

 

 

His real answer was yes—yes he could.

 

 

If it meant getting to be with her, Anakin could absolutely live like that. But having those words come out of his mouth only to have her say no anyway was not the way he wanted to end this already frustrating conversation.

 

In the end Anakin told Padmé what she wanted to hear and left the room.

 

 

\-------------------------------

 

 

Anakin did not, however, have time to dwell on his disappointment with Padmé. The reoccurring nightmares he had been having about his mother for the last month were getting more terrifying, and the sense accompanying them became steadily more urgent.

 

Obi-Wan had told him the dreams would pass. Padmé, however, was more sympathetic. Although not thrilled at the time to be stuck on a public transport with Anakin heading back to Naboo, when confronted with his distress she had easily slipped back into the maternal role she had assumed during their first space flight together.

 

After waking him, she gently said, “You seem to be having a nightmare.”

 

“Yeah,” Anakin acknowledged, still coming back to his senses.

 

“You were dreaming about your mother, weren’t you,” Padmé pointedly said.

 

His mother was a precious topic he usually kept safely hidden, but Anakin felt he could freely confide in Padmé.

 

“I left Tatoonine so long ago that . . . my memory of her is fading. And I don’t want to lose it,” Anakin admitted before adding, “Recently I’ve been seeing her in my dreams . . . scary dreams. I worry about her.”

 

 

 

On Naboo his dreams had only intensified. Even after their awkward conversation the night before, Padmé still approached Anakin in the early morning light and confronted him about them.

 

“You had another nightmare last night,” Padmé said.

 

“Jedi don’t have nightmares,” Anakin replied without looking at her.

 

“I heard you,” Padmé countered.

 

No longer able to deny the truth, Anakin finally came clean admitted he could no longer bare the nightmares—of his mother screaming for his help—and told Padmé he had to leave and go to Tatooine.

 

Anakin also realized then that, with Qui-Gon dead, Padmé was the only other person in his life off Tatooine that had actually met his mother, and that she might understand.

 

“I know I’m disobeying my mandate to protect you Senator, but I have to go. I have to help her,” Anakin pleaded.

 

Padmé did understand, an without protest or requests for further explanation simply said, “I’ll go with you.”

 

Anakin was truly shocked that she would do this for him—to ignore the danger she was in and selflessly stand by him in his need—thereby allowing him to help his mother without breaking his assignment to stay with her.

 

Ignoring that literally the last thing Obi-Wan had said to Anakin before he and Padmé left for Naboo was “Anakin, don’t do anything without first consulting either myself or the Council,” both quickly packed up and left the safety of the Lake Country.

 

They returned to the spaceport in Theed, boarded Padmé’s sleek sliver shuttle, and took off for Tatooine. Soon they were walking through the sandy streets of Anakin’s childhood home of Mos Espa among the scavengers, indigenous creatures, and off-worlders who did not want to be found.

 

The pair finally came to a small junk shop and found a leathery blue Toydarian sitting in front. With flies buzzing all around, both shop and owner had clearly seen better days.

 

“Chut-chut, Watto,” Anakin greeted his former master in Huttese.

 

Anakin then picked up the droid part Watto was struggling with and began to fix it.

 

The Toydarian was confused. Although upon seeing Anakin’s lightsaber clipped to his belt, he began protesting his innocence of some crime Anakin knew nothing about of which Watto was likely guilty.

 

When Anakin said he was looking for Shmi Skywalker, however, Watto suddenly took a second look at the young Jedi before him.

 

“Ani? Little Ani?” Watto switched to basic, his tone now incredulous. But as Anakin wordlessly set the now fixed droid part in front of him, he excitedly exclaimed, “You are Ani! It is you! And a Jedi! Whattaya know!”

 

Quickly returning to thoughts of his bottom line, which was all the Toydarian really cared about, he added conspiratorially, “Hey, maybe you could help with some deadbeats who owe me a lot of money.”

 

“My _mother_ ,” Anakin said, visibly displeased as he refocused Watto.

 

“Oh yeah, Shmi. She’s not mine-a no more. I sold her,” Watto said.

 

“You sold her?” Anakin replied.

 

“Years ago. Yeah, I sold her to a moisture farmer named Lars. Believe it or not, I heard he freed her and married her! Can ya beat that, eh?” Watto said.

 

Pinning down the verbose but vague Toydarian on specifics was always a difficult task, but Anakin finally ascertained that his mother now lived with her husband in the absolute middle of nowhere on the far side of Mos Eisley.

 

 

As he and Padmé returned to the ship and began flying in search of the Lars moisture farm, Anakin had time to think and remember.

 

Walking through the dusty town in which he grew up brought back memories of the events that led to him leaving.

 

As a boy he had come upon the fascinating offworlders that had just left Watto’s junk shop—Qui-Gon, Padmé, Artoo, and the Gungan Jar Jar Binks—on his way home. Anakin had intervened when Jar Jar had of course gotten into trouble by running a foul of Sebulba, who was a particularly nasty Dug.

 

“If you weren’t a slave, I’d squash you now,” Sebulba snarled at Anakin.

 

“Yeah, it would be a pity if you had to pay for me,” Anakin answered calmly, knowing he had won that round.

 

All heading in the same direction, Anakin chatted with the offworlders as they walked along. Learning their ship was too far away for them to get back to with a sandstorm coming up, Anakin had been happy to take them home to his mother—particularly after a glimpse of Qui-Gon’s lightsaber clipped to his built left Anakin even more intrigued.

 

Shmi Skywalker was by that point accustomed to Anakin bringing home all manner of people. Continuing her efforts to raise a son who knew nothing of greed, Shmi was happy for every opportunity to reinforce to Anakin the importance of generosity and hospitality, and always greeted everyone warmly and invited them to stay—no matter how little food she and Anakin might have that day.

 

While Qui-Gon spoke to Shmi, Anakin was happy to show Padmé his room and especially Threepio, the protocol droid he was building to help his mother.

 

“Isn’t he great!?” Anakin proudly exclaimed to Padmé.

 

“He’s wonderful!” Padmé indulged his child’s pride and excitement.

 

Anakin turned Threepio on, and the droid had immediately bonded with Artoo, who had followed the two organics into Anakin’s room.

 

Shmi soon called them to dinner, and Anakin was grateful there was enough to go around that day.

 

Their conversation soon turned to Anakin and Shmi’s status as slaves—with bombs hidden somewhere in their bodies to stop them from running away. Padmé was flabbergasted slavery still existed in the galaxy, and Shmi had to patiently disillusion the younger woman that the laws of the Republic did not extend to the Outer Rim.

 

Anakin abruptly changed the subject.

 

“You’re a Jedi Knight, aren’t you,” Anakin abruptly asked Qui-Gon, “I saw your laser sword. Only Jedi carry that kind of weapon.”

 

Qui-Gon’s reply was vague but did not contain a denial, so Anakin took that as a confirmation of the older man’s identity.

 

“I had a dream I was a Jedi,” Anakin told Qui-Gon. “I came back here and freed all the slaves. Have you come to free us?” he asked the Jedi.

 

“No,” Qui- Gon said. The Jedi then laid out their desperate situation—that Naboo had been invaded and they absolutely had to get the Queen to Coruscant, but were stranded on Tatooine until they could repair their ship. Qui-Gon had barely finished speaking before Anakin offered to fix the ship—which he likely could actually do. The Jedi, however, told Anakin that the real issues was not having the parts they needed—and with Republic credits being useless on Hutt controlled Tatooine they were really and truly stuck.

 

Still determined to help, Anakin switched gears to focus on how to get the ship parts from the junk dealers. Without any thought of reward, Anakin quickly concocted a plan for Qui Gon to pretend to own the racing pod Anakin had built, and talk Watto into letting Anakin race it in an upcoming podrace. Then the winnings could be used to buy the needed parts.

 

 

His mother was not happy with Anakin’s plan.

 

 

“I don’t want you to race. I die every time Watto makes you do it,” Shmi protested.

 

“Mom, you say the biggest problem in this galaxy is nobody helps each other,” Anakin reminded her.

 

Her son’s words softened and eventually melted Shmi’s opposition, even as Qui-Gon and Padmé tried to brainstorm other solutions to their serious problem.

 

“No, there is no other way,” Shmi said with resignation, “I may not like it, but he can help you.”

 

 

And help Anakin did—winning the race and saving the day.

 

 

Padmé knelt down and embraced him, “We owe you everything, Ani.”

 

Then his beaming mother kissed his cheek and brushed his hair from his forehead. “It’s so wonderful, Ani! You have brought hope to those who have none! I’m so very proud of you,” Shmi exclaimed.

 

It was then that Anakin learnt of the side bet that Qui-Gon had made with Watto—and that with his victory Anakin was free.

 

“Now you can make your dreams come true, Ani. Your free!” his mother said after Qui-Gon announced the good news.

 

Believing the Jedi could offer her son a better life than she could, Shmi asked Qui-Gon, “Will you take him with you? Is he to become a Jedi?”

 

“Yes,” Qui-Gon told her, before kneeling down in front of her son. “Anakin, training to become a Jedi is not an easy challenge. And even if you succeed it’s a hard life.”

 

“But I want to go! It’s what I’ve always dreamed of doing!” Anakin exclaimed before turning to his mother and asking, “Can I go mom?”

 

“Anakin, this path has been placed before you. The choice is yours alone,” Shmi told him. To Anakin, however, it was obvious what choice both his mother and Qui-Gon wanted him to make.

 

“I want to do it!” Anakin said after only a moment’s hesitation, and Qui-Gon told him to pack his things.

 

He was almost out of the room before a terrible thought finally occurred to Anakin, “What about mom? Is she free too?”

 

Qui-Gon apologetically told Anakin what Shmi already knew, that Watto would not let both of them go.

 

Anakin’s decision abruptly got much harder.

 

His mother, however, really wanted her son to have the better life she imagined for him as a Jedi.

 

“Son, my place is here, my future is here. It’s time for you to let go,” Shmi said before caressing Anakin’s face.

 

“I love you,” she whispered as she embraced him.

 

At his mother’s encouragement Anakin ran off to his room to pack his meager bag. As he did so he said his goodbyes to Threepio—apologizing to the confused and indignant droid that he could not finish him and that he would make sure his mother did not sell him—before quickly returning to Qui-Gon and his mother.

 

He soon walked out the door of his home for the last time and followed after Qui-Gon into the dusty street.

 

Anakin only made it a few paces, however, before he abruptly stopped, turned, and raced back to his mother.

 

“I can’t do it, Mom. I just can’t do it,” Anakin told her.

 

“Ani . . .” Shmi said, a note of imploring entering her voice.

 

“Will I ever see you again?” Anakin asked tearfully.

 

“What does your heart tell you?” Shmi asked gently.

 

“I hope so . . . Yes,” Anakin said.

 

“Then we will see each other again,” Shmi said encouragingly.

 

“I will come back and free you, Mom. I promise,” Anakin told her with great conviction.

 

“Now, be brave,” Shmi told Anakin, again caressing her son’s face, “And don’t look back . . . don’t look back.”

 

With one last parting look of love, she firmly turned Anakin around, and he continued on after Qui-Gon.

 

As a boy Anakin had never been anything but perfectly obedient to his loving and kind mother, but over the years he struggled to obey her parting command.

 

Anakin had always thought his mother was the gentlest, kindest, most loving person in the whole galaxy. During the last ten years off Tatooine Anakin’s assessment of his mother had not changed, but his appreciation of just how special she was had risen exponentially.

 

Used to his tender mother, Anakin’s education that his new Jedi caregivers were not so warm and kind was jarring.

 

Taken from their families at the usual young age, none of the other Jedi could remember their mothers, and Anakin’s deep homesickness was not met with compassion or understanding. While many decades later his grandson would be a model of emotional repression befitting a Jedi—Anakin was not. He was teased mercilessly by the other younglings for his sensitivity and shamed for his emotions by his instructors.

 

To survive Anakin learnt to harden his kind and generous heart, and only let his emotions show when he was alone—which usually meant crying himself to sleep.

 

During those dark times, Anakin consoled himself with memories of the angelic girl who had comforted him on his first space flight, and understandingly told him it was okay to miss his mother.

 

And if he was not dreaming of his mother he was dreaming of her.

 

On Tatooine Anakin had dreamt of becoming a Jedi and freeing all the slaves. Once he began his training, however, he soon acquired a new dream—in it he told Qui-Gon “no.” As miserable as he was with the Jedi, however, Anakin stayed over the years for the reason he left in the first place—so one day he could return to Tatooine a Jedi and free his mother.

 

 

Now Anakin had returned, accompanied by the same angelic girl—only to find someone else had already freed Shmi.

 

As he flew on towards Mos Eisley, something now struck Anakin that had not occurred to him when he was a boy.

 

 

Watto would have never willing let him go.

 

 

At the time being freed after winning the podrace had seemed like a miracle. But thinking back on the event with older and more jaded eyes, Anakin knew it was no miracle . . . Qui-Gon had done something.

 

“I’m sorry Ani. I tried to free your mother but Watto wouldn’t have it,” Qui-Gon had told him.

 

 _“No, that wasn’t true_ ,” Anakin thought.

 

In their side bet the greedy Toydarian would have tried to trade a slave for Qui-Gon’s broken ship—but that slave would have been Shmi not Anakin.

 

However, as everything on Tatooine revolved around gambling, Watto would have let his weighted chance cubes determine the outcome.

 

An outcome that Qui-Gon had deliberately changed to make sure it was Anakin who was freed.

 

 

And now an alternative outcome to the podrace victory formed in Anakin’s mind.

 

One where Qui-Gon had not altered the chance cube, and his mother had been freed instead of Anakin. Shmi would have never left her son, and life would have continued on much as it always had—until she met a moisture farmer who fell in love with her and married her.

 

It would not have been his mother who needed to be freed but Anakin—and out of love for Shmi her husband would have paid for Anakin’s freedom. Anakin would have been very expensive—much more so than his mother—but this man likely would have done it.

 

 

Because that is what real families did . . . they made sacrifices for each other.

 

 

And then Anakin would have grown up in an intact loving family.

 

Anakin knew in a special way that the Force was his father. Not having an earthly father had not been a problem when he was growing up with his loving mother, but in later years it had eventually become one. Had this been the Force’s plan to provide for Anakin in his need?

 

As Anakin’s mind ran wild with speculation, Qui-Gon suddenly did not seem so wise in deliberately altering Anakin’s fate. The young Force user now wondered how far the Jedi’s will for him differed from the will of the Light.

 

In spite of their loud protestations about his older age, Anakin had never known the Jedi to come across a Force sensitive child they did not feel entitled to take from their family for the good of the Order. They even kept a list of all the Force sensitive children that existed throughout the galaxy, whom they watched until it was time.

 

Somehow, in spite of all his strength with the Force, Anakin had been overlooked, and had never been on that list. Resultantly he had not been taking from his mother at the usual young age.

 

It was almost as if the Light had hidden Anakin on Force dampened Tatooine, and it was unlikely the Jedi would have ever found him if it had not been for the events that the mysterious Sith Lord Darth Sideous had set in motion.

 

Had the Force even wanted the Jedi to find him?

 

It was a question that now swirled in Anakin’s mind as they neared their destination.

 

 

 

Anakin, Padmé, and Artoo finally arrived in the middle of nowhere, and Anakin set the ship down near the Lars moisture farm. Padmé told Artoo to stay with the ship, and she and Anakin headed towards the homestead.

 

The only sentient being in view was a humanoid droid awkwardly working on a piece of machinery. As the pair approached the droid looked up.

 

“Oh! Hello,” the droid said, managing to sound startled and prissy at the same time, “How might I be of service? I am C-”

 

“Threepio?” Anakin ask, himself taking a turn at being startled.

 

“Oh, um,” the protocol droid briefly stuttered before recognition suddenly came. “Oh, the Maker! Master Ani! I knew you would return! _I knew it!_ And Miss Padmé! Oh my!” Threepio exclaimed.

 

True to the promise her nine-year-old son had extracted from her before leaving home, Shmi had not sold the droid. Someone had done a decent job of completing the droid by giving Threepio coverings—although Anakin of course could have done better.

 

“I’ve come to see my mother,” Anakin told the droid.

 

“Oh, um. I think perhaps we better go indoor,” Threepio replied before quickly shuffling off towards the entrance to the homestead.

 

Accompanied by Padmé, Anakin followed behind—a sense of foreboding steadily growing in his heart.

 

Once inside they ran into a couple around their age.

 

“Master Owen, might I present two most important visitors,” Threepio began the introductions.

 

“I'm Anakin Skywalker,” Anakin said.

 

“Owen Lars. This is my girlfriend, Beru,” Owen said.

 

Beru greeted them, and Padmé also introduced herself.

 

“I guess I'm your stepbrother. I had a feeling you might show up someday,” Owen admitted.

 

Owen Lars was welcoming but was clearly wary of his stepbrother, with his much flashier clothes, female companion, and life. Anakin suspected the other young man would be impressed by his mechanical abilities, which were extremely valuable on a place like Tatooine, but that was not why he was here.

 

“Is my mother here?” Anakin asked.

 

“No, she's not,” an older, deeper voice said from behind him.

 

Anakin turned and came face to face with the man who should have been his father.

 

“Cliegg Lars,” the older man said, extending his hand to Anakin, who shook it. “Shmi is my wife. We should go inside. We have a lot to talk about.”

 

 

Cliegg was in a hoverchair, and appeared to have been recently injured. As Anakin followed him inside the homestead the foreboding in his heart shifted into barely contained panic.

 

“It was just before dawn,” Cliegg said as they all sat around the family’s dining table. “They came out of nowhere. A hunting party of Tusken Raiders. Your mother had gone out early, like she always did . . . to pick mushrooms that grow on the vaporators. From the tracks she was about halfway home . . . when they took her.”

 

Anakin did not look at his stepfather while he spoke, instead looking straight ahead—flashbacks of his nightmares that he now knew were likely not just dreams swimming before his eyes.

 

“Those Tuskens walk like men . . . but they're vicious, mindless monsters. Thirty of us went out after her. Four of us came back. I'd be out there with them, but after I lost my leg . . . I just couldn't ride anymore un-until I heal. I don't want to give up on her . . . but she's been gone a month. There's little hope she's lasted this long.”

 

Anakin’s only response was to wordlessly rise from the table.

 

“Where are you going?” Owen asked.

 

“To find my mother,” Anakin replied.

 

“Your mother's dead, son. Accept it,” Cliegg tried to reason with him.

 

 

_Like hell he would._

 

 

Anakin strode back outside and for a moment just gazed at the familiar twin suns setting over the horizon.

 

He sensed Padmé had followed him, and he turned to face her.

 

“You're going have to stay here,” Anakin told her, “These are good people, Padmé. You'll be safe.”

 

“Anakin-” Padmé said, her voice full of emotion.

 

Padmé reached up and embraced him, and Anakin held her close and buried his face into her neck. In that moment they both felt something again shift between them.

 

“I won't be long,” he told her as he pulled away.

 

Anakin briefly looked back at her before throwing a leg over what he assumed was his stepbrother’s speederbike, and took off towards the setting suns.

 

 

 

Heading in what he sensed was the right direction, Anakin left the flatlands and soon found himself surrounded by huge rock formations. He came upon a troop of Jawas scavenging the desert in a gigantic Sandcrawler with massive treads. One of the short creatures looked out from under his hood with glowing yellow eyes, and pointed in response to Anakin’s request for the whereabouts of the sandpeople.

 

Anakin continued on in that direction until he sensed he was closing in on the Tuskens, at which point he parked the speederbike and covered the remaining distance silently on foot. Soon he reached the edge of a cliff.

 

Night had fallen, and by the moonlight Anakin saw a cluster of primitive huts, each with its own fire, as he looked down into the valley below. Anakin easily made the long drop down, and kept to the shadows as he entered the camp. Most of the sandpeople were inside the huts, but a few sat around fires and watched a pair of vicious looking dogs fight over a bone.

 

Reaching out through the Force, Anakin located his mother’s sense—she was still alive and alone in one of the huts near the perimeter. With the hum drowned out by the snarling dogs, Anakin ignited his lightsaber and cut a hole in the hut’s wall that was still shrouded under the cover of night.

 

Inside he was met with the horrific sight of his mother bound by her wrists to a crude rack. From the glow of a nearby fire, every visible part of Shmi’s skin was bruised and cut up. From the blood stains that soaked through her clothes Anakin could tell even parts of her that were currently covered had been viciously slashed.

 

Appalled and overcome with emotion, Anakin quickly unbound his mother’s wrists and carefully lowered her off the rack. He cradled her against his chest with one arm, and held her hand with his other.

 

“M-mom, Mom . . .” Anakin whispered, barely able to contain his tears.

 

Anakin had long hoped to see his mother again—but not like this. He would have gladly given up reuniting with her if it meant sparing his mother from the agony of her present captivity.

 

Roused from her semiconscious state by being jostled, Shmi opened her eyes at the sound of Anakin’s voice and gazed upon her son.

 

“Ani?” Shmi asked, clearly believing she was hallucinating, “Ani? Is it you?”

 

“I'm here, Mom. You're safe,” Anakin told her, trying to stay calm for her sake.

 

“Ani? Ani?” Shmi still could not believe her eyes, “Oh, you look so handsome.”

 

His mother reached a hand up to caress his face, and he turned to kiss her palm.

 

“My son. Oh, my grown-up son,” Shmi said, her voice full of the love and warmth Anakin remembered so vividly, “I'm so proud of you, Ani.”

 

“I missed you,” Anakin replied, barely able to get the words out.

 

“Now I am complete,” Shmi said with tone of deep peace, and Anakin managed to smile lovingly down at her, as her hand continued to rest on his face.

 

“I love y-” Shmi whispered.

 

It had been so long since Anakin had heard those words.

 

He sensed, however, that his mother’s spirit was beginning to weaken.

 

“Stay with me, Mom. Everything-” Anakin said unable to finish as he fought against the sense of panic that was quickly rising in him.

 

“I love-” Shmi whispered, herself unable to finish. She tried again with the last of her strength, “I . . . I love-”

 

As Anakin held his mother, a long exhaled breath left her lips, followed by her hand dropping away from his face and her head falling back.

 

 

She was gone.

 

 

For the first few moments of stunned disbelief Anakin could not comprehend that he was alone.

 

 

_This could not be happening._

 

 

Eventually he collected himself enough to reach up close his mother’s lifeless eyes. As his hand drifted down to stroke her neck—still warm in a parody of life— a memory rose in Anakin’s mind—the first time he had the misfortune to meet the Jedi Council.

 

Desperate for their approval and acceptance, nine-year-old Anakin had tried his hardest on all their various tests of his Force abilities, and waited nervously to see if he passed.

 

Finally Master Yoda spoke, “How feel you?”

 

“Cold, sir,” Anakin softly replied.

 

“Afraid are you?” Yoda pressed him.

 

“No, sir,” Anakin said, making sure to infuse more confidence into his voice this time.

 

“See through you we can,” Master Yoda told him ominously.

 

“Be mindful of your feelings,” Master Windu warned.

 

“Your thoughts dwell on your mother,” Master Mundi continued their invasive interrogation.

 

“I miss her,” Anakin stated what to his mind was obvious.

 

“Afraid to lose her I think, hm?” Yoda said.

 

“What’s that got to do with anything,” Anakin replied, by this point having completely dropping his respectful demeanor.

 

“Everything! Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to suffering,” Yoda said, hammering into Anakin his first lesson on the core philosophy of the Jedi.

 

“I sense much fear in you,” Yoda told Anakin with great disapproval.

 

The realization of Anakin’s worst fear, and his current pain at the trauma of his mother’s death was so profound that it caused a massive disturbance in the Force. It was so strong that Master Yoda and others powerful in the Force could sense it back on Coruscant.

 

Over the last ten years of indoctrination, the Jedi had kept the young Force user emotionally stunted and unprepared for this moment as he confronted his overwhelming grief. Anakin’s response, therefore, was that of a small child. And not the sweet and kind boy his mother raised, but the angry jaded one the Jedi had turned him into.

 

 

Only he was not a small child—but a highly skilled and lethal Jedi.

 

 

Moreover, it became apparent that increased strength in the Force was not the only thing that Anakin had acquired during his Jedi training. Roused by the unbearable loss of his family and an accompanying feeling powerlessness, something dark rose up from deep inside of Anakin and reared its ugly head for the first time.

 

And with his mother’s stabilizing presence gone, Anakin’s control over his anger evaporated.

 

 

Igniting his lightsaber, Anakin strode out into the firelight—and cut down all the Tuskens and even their livestock until every living creature in the whole camp was as dead as his beloved mother.

 

 

His grisly task complete Anakin slumped to the ground by one of the fires. For the rest of the night he made no attempt to move, and remained as motionless as the bodies by which he was surrounded.

 

Eventually the fires burned themselves out and dawn broke—beginning a new day that Anakin did not want to face.

 

Several more hours passed before he was finally able to force himself to move by the reality that his mother needed to be properly buried. Getting shakily to his feet, Anakin stood and returned to where he had left her body. It was cold to his touch—so cold—as he transferred his mother’s earthy remains to a course Tusken blanket he found, and carefully wrapped and secured it with strips of cloth. Anakin then picked up his mother’s body, and in the growing heat of the day carried her all the way back to the abandoned speederbike.

 

 

The drive back to the Lars homestead was a blur, and Anakin was so lost in thought it was a miracle he did not get lost.

 

The Force had warned him for a month—the entire length of her torture and imprisonment—of his mother’s need for his help. But where had he been? Busy with Jedi business. If Padmé had not been understanding and helped him get to Tatooine, he would never have seen his mother alive again.

 

But he had been too late to save her.

 

While Anakin had dreamt of becoming a Jedi so he could return and free his mother, Shmi had dreamt of a better life for Anakin—but away from her that had not happened.

 

And the dreams of both mother and son would now be forever left unfulfilled.

 

His mother using her dying breath to tell him that she loved him replayed on an endless loop in his mind, and hammered in the magnitude of his loss.

 

 

And Anakin knew he would never hear those words ever again.

 

 

He would never have a home again.

 

 

Because the only person who had every loved him—whom he should never have left—was gone.

 

 

The sound of the speederbike announced that Anakin had finally returned, and Cliegg, Owen, Beru, Padmé, and Threepio rushed out to meet him. Anakin exchanged grim looks with his stepfamily as he wordlessly carried his mother’s body inside.

 

After laying his precious burden down, Anakin retreated to the homestead’s workshop. He remained their mindlessly tinkering until Padmé eventually came looking for him.

 

“I brought you something. Are you hungry?” Padmé carefully asked.

 

Anakin did not answer her or look up, but continuing his work simply said, “The shifter broke. Life seems so much simpler when you're fixing things. I'm good at fixing things. Always was. But I couldn't-”

 

With his mother’s death Anakin had regressed to a much younger age, and appeared much more the boy Padmé had met the last time they were on Tatooine than the Jedi assigned to protect her.

 

“Why'd she have to die?” Anakin asked, finally looking up to meet Padmé’s eyes, “Why couldn't I save her? I know I could have!”

 

“Sometimes there are things no one can fix,” Padmé answered again slipping back into her maternal role in the face of his child’s logic, “You're not all-powerful, Ani.”

 

“Well, I should be! Someday I will be. I will be the most powerful Jedi ever! I promise you. I will even learn to stop people from dying!” Anakin screamed.

 

On the surface his ravings were that of a grief stricken slave boy who had never known anything but powerlessness as one master after another wielded increasingly invasive control over his life.

 

As the Force user long heralded as the fabled “Chosen One” with the potential to surpass even Master Yoda’s power in the Force, however, Anakin sensed that his words were not the utter nonsense as they would be for someone else—but contained a dangerous grain of truth.

 

 

Padmé was not strong with the Force, but she was good at reading people—Anakin in particular—and as Anakin launched into a tearful rant about his Jedi overlords she sensed this was about much more than his devastation at the loss of his mother.

 

“What's wrong, Ani?” Padmé asked.

 

“I—I killed them. I killed them all. They're dead. Every single one of them,” Anakin said, finally turning to face her, and in that moment showing not the slightest bit of remorse. “And not just the men . . . but the women . . . and the children too. They're like animals, and I slaughtered them like animals! _I HATE THEM!_ ” Anakin told her, by the end screaming with rage as tears ran down his face.

 

But then regret finally flooded in, and Anakin sank to the floor and began to cry harder.

 

Padmé tried to remain calm in the face of such an admission, and find something helpful to say.

 

“To be angry is to be human,” she said, as she sat down next to him.

 

“I'm a Jedi. I know I'm better than this,” Anakin replied, before beginning to weep in earnest.

 

Padmé was not sure what exactly he meant by that, but it spoke to his belief that as a Jedi he should have been better able to repress his emotions. Years later it was a moment she looked back on as her warning—that the man she loved had developed a very unhealthy relationship with his emotions during his time with the Jedi.

 

 

And what could happen when he lost control.

 

 

In that moment, however, all she could think to do was comfortingly run her fingers through his hair as he sobbed.

 

For Anakin, no one touched him like that or bothered to comfort him except his now deceased mother, and he found Padmé’s caresses deeply soothing.

 

Neither of them knew how long they stayed like that, but eventually Owen found them and said everything was ready for Shmi’s funeral.

 

 

Anakin was not up for digging his mother’s grave, and was grateful that his step-family had taken care of it. They had left the task of carrying his mother’s body to its final resting place for Anakin, for which Shmi’s son was thankful.

 

Shmi was buried next to Cliegg’s first wife, and after her body was covered, her family stood together in silence staring at her tombstone.

 

“I know wherever you are it's become a better place,” Cliegg said, “You were the most loving partner a man could ever have. Good-bye, my darling wife. And thank you.”

 

After Cliegg had finished speaking, Anakin slowly walked closer to the gravesite. Falling to his knees in front of his mother’s tombstone, he reached down and took a handful of the Tatooine sand he hated so much.

 

“I wasn't strong enough to save you, Mom. I wasn't strong enough,” Anakin said in a voice barely above a whispered but ringing with conviction, “But I promise I won't fail again.”

 

Rising to his feet again, he released the sand he had been gripping. It fell back onto his mother’s grave along with his promise.

 

“I miss you . . . so much,” Anakin added, again becoming so overwhelmed with grief he could barely get the words out.

 

 

It was unclear to anyone how long Anakin would have stood there, but Shmi’s funeral suddenly came to an abrupt end when Artoo rolled into their midst with an urgent message from Obi-Wan. It seemed like a very long time since he had seen his master, but Anakin realized that in reality it had only been a few days.

 

Anakin and Padmé said a hasty farewell to the Lars family, and with Threepio in tow followed Artoo back to the ship. Before boarding, however, Anakin looked back at his step-family one last time. With his mother dead there was nothing left to tie them together—and Anakin knew he would never see them again.

 

 

In the cockpit Anakin found Padmé already calling up Obi-Wan’s message.

 

“Anakin, my long-range transmitter has been knocked out. Retransmit this message to Coruscant,” the hologram of Obi-Wan instructed.

 

With the push of another button the message played simultaneously for them on Tatooine and also for the Jedi leadership back in the Republic’s capital.

 

Obi-Wan reported that he had managed to track the bounty hunter who had tried to kill Padmé to Geonosis, only to find that the same Trade Federation that had previously invaded Naboo was now behind the recent assassination attempts . . . and was on the planet to take possession of a new droid army. Furthermore, the Commerce Guild and the Corporate Alliance were joining them in pledging their armies to the Jedi turned Sith Lord Count Dooku—to wage war against the Republic as a unified Separatists Alliance.

 

As sobering has his news was, it was the next part of Obi-Wan’s message that caused Anakin’s heart to jump into his throat.

 

“Wait . . . wait,” Obi-Wan said as his attention was suddenly caught by something out of the holovid’s range. Obi-Wan abruptly ignited his lightsaber a split second before he was suddenly fending off a barrage of blaster fire from some unknown assailant.

 

Unknown until a droideka—one of the most lethal destroyer droids—strode into the frame next to Obi-Wan.

 

 

And then the message was abruptly cut off.

 

 

Ignoring how concerned Anakin must be about Obi-Wan, all Master Windu said was, “Anakin, we will deal with Count Dooku. The most important thing for you is to stay where you are. Protect the Senator at all costs. That is your first priority.”

 

“Understood, Master,” Anakin replied obediently before the link to Coruscant was cut off.

 

“They'll never get there in time to save him. They have to come halfway across the galaxy,” Padmé said before calling up a map on the ship’s nav computer, “Look. Geonosis is less than a parsec away.

 

“If he's still alive,” Anakin responded testily as he began to pace.

 

“Ani, are you just going to sit here and let him die? He's your friend, your mentor. He's-”

 

“He's like my father!” Anakin angrily corrected her, “But you heard Master Windu. He gave me strict orders to stay here!”

 

“He gave you strict orders to protect me . . . and I'm going to help Obi-Wan,” Padmé said as she calmly fired up the main engines, “If you plan to protect me, you'll just have to come along.”

 

 

Anakin knew that once again Padmé was doing this for him.

 

While her coming with him to Tatooine was an act of kindness associated with relatively low risk, her now rushing straight towards the people trying to kill her was utter recklessness. It, furthermore, demonstrated Padmé’s capacity from the beginning to enable Anakin to ignore the orders of the Jedi Counsel and the Code when she thought she was right.

 

Anakin knew he should stop her. Knew that beyond doing his job, what he should be most concerned with was protecting Padmé. But both he and Padmé knew that, no matter how much he butted heads with Obi-Wan, Anakin could not handle losing any more parental figures today. So he just smiled at her and sat down in the copilot’s seat—impressed that despite being a pampered politician she could pilot her ship herself.

 

 

And so Anakin, Padmé, and the droids rushed off to Geonosis to rescue Obi-Wan.

 

After sneaking into the enemy base and briefly running around the Separatist’s droid foundry, however, they were rather quickly captured.

 

Anakin and Padmé soon found themselves standing side by side on a hovercart waiting to be taken out into an arena where Anakin would receive a lecture from Obi-Wan followed by all three of them dying a grisly death for the entertainment of the Geonosians.

 

For a moment, however, the pair remained in the dark arena tunnel.

 

“Don’t be afraid,” Anakin told Padmé somewhat ludicrously.

 

“I'm not afraid to die,” Padmé told him, “I've been dying a little bit each day since you came back into my life.”

 

“What are you talking about?” Anakin asked, confused by the intensity with which she was looking at him.

 

“I love you,” Padmé simply said.

 

“You love me?” Anakin replied in complete shock. After his mother died he thought he would never hear those words ever again—let alone from Padmé the day after his mother’s funeral.

 

He quickly checked himself, however, remembering they had already had this conversation.

 

“I thought that we had decided not to fall in love,” Anakin said, paraphrasing to Padmé all of her prior objections, “that we would be forced to live a lie, and that it would destroy our lives.”

 

“I think our lives are about to be destroyed anyway,” Padmé countered, “I truly . . . deeply love you . . . and before we die, I want you to know.”

 

This time it was Padmé who leaned in to kiss Anakin—a kiss that ended only when the hovercart was finally pulled out into the arena.

 

 

But they did not die on Geonosis.

 

 

Although neither of them left the planet unscathed. Padmé had her back and upper arm slashed open by the creature that was meant to eat her. Anakin faired much worse during a lightsaber duel with the leader of the Separatists, Count Dooku, losing his right hand and much of his sword arm. With the reinforcements the rest of the Jedi arrived with, however, their injuries were quickly attended to, and Anakin was fitted with a biomedical right arm and hand.

 

Moreover, to the young lovers’ delight the sufficiently healed Anakin was then assigned by the Jedi to escort Padmé back to Naboo.

 

With Padmé’s resolve against being together gone and Anakin’s never having existed in the first place, they found their passion for each other sweeping them away from caution and all rational thought.

 

In a secret wedding in the Naboo Lake Country witnessed only by Artoo, Threepio, and the minister Padmé had scrounged up, Anakin and Padmé joined hands, hearts, and lives. After a brief honeymoon at the villa they had stayed at the last time they were on Naboo, the couple headed back to Coruscant and blissfully started their secret marriage and double life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you as always for reading. Comments and kudos are much appreciated.
> 
> Next chapter Clone Wars Anidala, Obikin, and Ahsoka!
> 
>  
> 
> Acknowledgment of works of commentary that contributed ideas significantly included in this chapter:
> 
> LOTS Podcast: Reylo vs. Anidala - Couple Contrasts in Star Wars  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xdnZHfFf2-A&t=3s
> 
> Wayward Jedi: Rey and Ben - The Resurrected Heroes (Part 1 & 2) The One Big Story of Star Wars  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PkoY5MJ2pxY&t=5s  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5xqnQtl13CQ
> 
> Wayward Jedi: Love is the Balance - A Rey and Kylo Ren Story  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qEYCYL_9jl8&t=165s
> 
> Popculture Detective: The Case Against The Jedi Order  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tUPD1w78D5I
> 
>  
> 
> Artwork: Art of the Attack of the Clones, page 184.

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: Star Wars and all of its characters are owned by Disney & Lucasfilms. No copyright infringement intended. All artwork belongs to the artist.


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